EPONINE: The Last Black Heir: THE GOBLET OF FIRE
by bloodrosered
Summary: Eponine, newly liberated hopes to live a normal life at Hogwarts with her friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione and have a normal relationship with her father...she realized that she's not normal...being different can be deadly...
1. A New Life

EPONINE: The Last Black Heir

Book 4: The Goblet of Fire

Chapter One

A New Life

_The Riddle House_

It had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of the windows were boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its fence. Once a fine looking manor and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied.

The villagers of Little Hangleton all agreed that the old house was 'creepy' ever since what happened over half a century ago: something strange and horrible happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss for gossip was rare. The story had been told so many times and had been embroidered in so many places that nobody knew the truth anymore. Fifty years ago, at daybreak on a fine summer morning, when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead. The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she could.

"Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!"

The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to be sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. Elder Mr. and Mrs. Riddle had been rich, snobbish, and rude, and their grown up son, Tom, had been anything, worse. All the villagers cared about was who the murderer was—because apparently three healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

One man was a suspect: Frank Bryce.

"Frank!" cried several people. "Never!"

Frank Bryce was the Riddle's gardener. He lived alone in a rundown cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.

Yet, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed the Riddles. But, over the neighboring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark, dingy police station, Frank kept repeating stubbornly that he was innocent and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure that Frank had invented him.

However, just when things were looking very serious, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything. The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact (the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment), the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health—apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face—but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?

The police had no choice but to let Frank go. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, not far from the Riddle House. The headstone had a large grim reaper, draped in a cloak, carrying a large scythe, it grinned inside its cloak a terrible grin. Their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid a cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House.

Frank wouldn't leave. He stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House, and then the next—for neither family stayed long. Soon, a wealthy man who owned the Riddle House these days neither lived there nor put it to any use; they said in the village that he kept it for 'tax reasons', though nobody was clear what might be. The wealthy owner continued to pay Frank to do the gardening, however. Frank was nearing his seventy-seventh birthday now, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he may to suppress them.

Weeds were not the only things Frank had to contend with either. Boys from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Riddle House. They rode their bikes over the lawns that Frank worked so hard to keep smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the house for a dare. They knew that old Frank's devotion to the house and grounds amounted almost to an obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them. Frank, for his part, believed the boys tormented him because, like their parents and grandparents, thought him a murderer.

One night, Frank was awoken by his bad leg; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee, hell, perhaps he would have a cup of tea while he was up. First, he filled the kettle with water, then lit the gas stove with a match and placed the kettle over the burner. While he was fetching the teapot, he saw lights glimmering in the upper windows of the Riddle House. The boys had broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of light, they had started a fire.

"Bloody kids!" he mumbled.

He figured that he'd shoo the kids out and be back in time to take the kettle off the burner. He put his cap and jacket on, grabbing the keys, his cane and a flashlight. Frank limped around to the back of the house until he reached the door almost completely hidden by the ivy, took out the key, put it into the lock and opened the door noiselessly.

He let himself into the cavernous hall. Frank had not entered it in many years; nevertheless, although it was dark, he remembered where the door into the hall was and he groped his way toward it, his nostrils full of the smell of decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps and voices. He reached the stairs and went up the stairs and that's when he heard voices.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail," said a voice, which appeared to belong to a man—but it was strangely high-pitched and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up.

He turned off his flashlight so he wouldn't make his presence known. At the top of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Several feet from the entrance, he was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond. When he continued to go up the stairs to get a closer look, a stair creaked loudly and Frank decided not to move any closer.

"As I recall," said the man's voice. "You once called the nearest gutter pipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

"Oh, no. No, no, my Lord Voldemort," said another man's voice—supposedly belonging to the man named Wormtail—what the hell kind of name was that? The man's voice was timid and fearful. "I only meant…perhaps if we do it without the boy…"

"No!" said this man who was called Lord Voldemort. "The boy is everything! It cannot be done without him…and the girl. And it will be done. Exactly as I said."

"The girl?" asked the man in the leather jacket.

"Yes, the Bearer of the Stone," said Voldemort.

"Are we going to kill her as well?" asked the man in the leather jacket.

"NO! She is of great importance and will be of great use to me."

"What are you saying, my Lord?" asked the man.

"The girl's family, especially back to the Medieval times inherited such powers that she has. She is the Dark Lady's last heir. In time, the Dark Lady will rise in the flesh of her true heir once I have enough strength to evoke her…"

"The Dark Lady?" said Wormtail.

"Yes, the Mistress of Salazar Slytherin. When I first heard about the Dark Lady, she produced an illegitimate heir, tainting Slytherin's good name. Needless to say, the birth of that heir left a permanent stain on Slytherin's name for a long time. Somehow, the heir disappeared. Probably that foolish brother of hers hid it. So, I decided to find the last heirs of the Dark Lady and eliminate them so I could remove that stain from Slytherin's name. Most of the heirs of the Dark Lady were hard to find, most of them were dead…one of the heirs was Jane Hartigan. What I didn't know was the girl's powers she inherited from the Dark Lady. Soon I realized that perhaps I wouldn't have to kill her. Perhaps I could use someone like her in my war. We need both Harry Potter and Eponine Black in order to do this. Get them both here!"

Frank continued to get closer to the open door while maintaining his distance to hear what they were saying, remaining unseen in the shadows so he wouldn't be seen.

"I will not disappoint you, my Lord," said a man in a leather jacket.

"Good," said Lord Voldemort. "First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign."

Soon, something was slithering towards him along the dark corridor floor and it went past his feet. It was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified and transfixed, Frank stared at its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer—what was he to do? Frank jumped out of his skin and slightly a bit. He decided to stay still and waited until the snake went away. It slithered into the room and climbed up the chair and soon, there was a strange language that whispered in low, high-pitched hisses and spitting noises that sent chills up Frank's spine.

"Nagini tells me the old Muggle caretaker is standing just outside the door," said Lord Voldemort.

Frank didn't have a chance to hide himself. The man in the leather jacket turned towards the door and his face paled slightly. A short, balding man with graying hair, a pointed nose, and small, watery eyes stood in the doorway and stared at him with a grin.

"Step aside, Wormtail," said Lord Voldemort. "So I can give our guest a proper greeting…" then, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a flash of green light and the tea kettle that was on the stove was screaming a high-pitched whistle…

_The Grangers' House, 200 miles away_

Eponine woke with a start; her heart was glowing brightly, filling the room, making it a crimson color. Eponine was breathing hard, sweating profusely from her forehead and her blood felt hot as if liquid fire was pulsing through. The dream seemed so real. But why was she having this dream? She tried to recall the dream before she awoken, concentrating hard, frowning, trying to remember…the dim picture of a graveyard…a grim reaper…a darkened stairwell leading to a room…three people: two she knew and one didn't…the small man, Peter, nicknamed Wormtail…and a cold high voice…the voice of Lord Voldemort…something about the Dark Lady and her heirs and her mother's name was mentioned…Voldemort and Wormtail and the other man were talking about some plot to kill someone…her friend, Harry Potter…and yet, Voldemort said that he was not going to kill her…but why?

She looked at the clock and saw it was 5 o'clock in the morning. She was putting on her clothes and was getting ready for her usual morning chores. She had filled a bucket with water and soap and was already scrubbing the kitchen.

"Eponine!" said a voice behind her. It was Hermione. "What are you doing? It's five o'clock in the morning! Why are you scrubbing the kitchen?"

"Oh!" Eponine said, embarrassed. "Sorry. You know how old habits die hard."

"Well, why don't you go back to bed and get some sleep? You're not at Hogwarts anymore. You can sleep in."

"I know," Eponine said. "But I'm used to being up this early. Plus, I would like to get some studying done today. Plus, I can't stop thinking about Dad."

"I'm sure he's fine. He's probably worried about you just as you are about him."

"I'm not worried about him. I just would really like to have some kind of relationship with him over the summer; but you know, he said that I have lots of studying to do."

"You're doing just fine, 'Ponine," said Hermione. "You've been doing excellently on all the material we've been studying. You deserve to take a break now and then."

"I know, but still I feel behind everyone."

"Don't worry. You'll do just fine. Besides, Dumbledore did agree to have you be with the fourth years as long as you've read all the material we've been reviewing over the summer. Thanks to your dad, you'll be all caught up."

Eponine smiled. "I am excited about going to Hogwarts. It's just it's going to be a bit odd now since I've been liberated from domestic servitude."

Eponine Black was a skivvy who worked at Hogwarts for nine years and her guardian was the Potions professor, Severus Snape, who was horrible to her: he abused, starved and even let his own house students, Slytherin bully her. She wanted to put all of that behind her now that she had her father, Sirius Black, back into her life.

Her dad was imprisoned in the wizard prison, Azkaban and then escaped last year and the two were reunited. He escaped the second time and liberated Eponine from domestic servitude by giving her the proof to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, that he was her father with a birth certificate that he had held onto for thirteen years since he left her and twelve while in prison. Second, now that Eponine was enrolled in school, she was given permission to visit Hogsmeade and gave her access to his bank in the wizard's bank, Gringotts. He saw how responsible she was and decided that he could trust her.

After being liberated, Sirius thought it would be best if she stayed with Hermione Granger so that she could tutor her over the summer so she could be all caught up for the new term; Hermione was pleased to see that her student was doing so well on her spells, potion ingredients, her memorization of herbs, etc. that she envied her.

Since she had been staying with her best friend, Eponine went through a lot of changes: she began eating regularly and gained some weight. She had been sickly thin and pale since she had left Hogwarts and all the Grangers did was demand her to eat. She enjoyed taking baths (of course, she bathed while at Hogwarts but it was seldom that she did) and the second she stepped out of the bathroom, the Grangers stared at her in awe: her golden hair shined like the sun and her porcelain skin glowed like freshly cleaned white linen with the sheen of a pearl. Her grey-blue eyes were no longer sunken in, her body had gained curves from eating regularly, and her face had gained some color.

Also, now that her father was back in her life, her entire personality had changed as well: she was more confident and happier. She received letters from her father that were delivered by beautiful, exotic birds as well as expensive gifts. Eponine appreciated the gesture, but she wished he wouldn't spend so much on her.

Today was her birthday. The Grangers planned on throwing her a small party that would include her friends. Eponine got a letter from her dad that was delivered by an exotic bird:

_Dear Eponine,_

_Happy 14th birthday! I would like to give you your birthday present. I am flying up with Buckbeak tonight to give it to you in person. Don't worry. This present didn't cost me anything. Meet me at the park just after dark. I'll be waiting there._

_Love your father_

Eponine wished he wouldn't risk flying up to just give her a birthday present; she knew that the Ministry of Magic was looking for him since he was a fugitive on the run. She wished he would just lay low until the charges were dropped. She didn't want to lose him again.

She picked up her quill and wrote:

_Dad,_

_I'll be at the park tonight for you to give me my present. But, please promise me that you won't be sneaking around to see me until the new term starts. I don't want to lose you again._

_Eponine_

The party was held in the afternoon. Ron and Harry showed up for the party with gifts for Eponine, who stared at her new self. Eponine's presents from her friends were a sweater from Ron made by his mother and a box of fudge, a grey velvet cloak from Harry, and a brooch that was a red rose from Hermione.

After the party, night fell and Eponine sat on the bench waiting for her dad to come. Soon, a black dog appeared, holding two boxes in its mouth.

"Hi, Dad," she said.

Soon, the black dog transformed into her father, Sirius Black. He was bedraggled and dirty just as when she first met him last year. Yet, his grey-blue eyes were shining with joy.

"It's so good to see you, 'Ponine," he said, smiling.

"Dad, it's only been two, three months since you saw me," Eponine said, smiling back, laughing.

"I know. But they seem like eternity."

He hugged his daughter and kissed her forehead, stroking her hair.

"You look much better since the last time I saw you."

"Thanks, Dad."

They sat on the bench together. "Here's your presents." He handed her a long, old faded red box along with a large one. She opened it and inside was a wand, in perfect condition with a golden vine with red rosettes. She held it and could feel a strange sensation from touching it…almost as two souls were connecting and whispers of a female's voice in her mind, speaking in an ancient language in her mind. Yet, it felt just right to her. She smiled, touching the rosettes.

"This was your mother's," he said. "She told me that it had been passed down from her family for generations. It contains a lock of hair from a witch in her family."

Eponine opened the package and inside was a beautiful creamy, silvery grey dress that looked as though it was made from the Renaissance era. It was made of satin and lace, with an empire waist, a deep V neckline of antique satin, decorated with small pearls and seed beads. The insert was made of satin with more small pearls and seed beads as well as a silver bullion and aged lace. The chemise was semi-sheer that gathered to sleeve cap. The sleeves were trimmed in lace and beaded, tie to each other at elbow and then to sleeve cap with metallic cording. There was a split overskirt of two types of gauzy crinkled fabric made of silk, possibly satin sewn together into panels. The underskirt was bias cut with antique satin that features French knots at hem.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. "It's beautiful! But, what is it for?"

"Dumbledore let me in on a little secret," he said. "I've been in contact with him, making arrangements on how we would meet while you're at school. He told me that this year, the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts and I believe that they hold the Yule Ball on Christmas. I was able to sneak into my house and get this. This too was your mother's."

"This was Mum's? Really?" Eponine said, her voice breaking; she could just picture her mother wearing this dress.

"Yes. I've kept this and all your mother's things at my house ever since she died. I remember when she wore this dress to our first dance, when I first saw her in this and she was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't even work up the courage to ask her to dance. And now, I think it's time that her things were passed down to you."

"Oh, Dad," she said, smiling. "I want everyone who's ever been mean to me to be pea green with envy."

He laughed. "I'm sure they will when they see you set foot into Hogwarts as a new student, 'Ponine."

"Oh, Dad," she said. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course."

"Well, Hermione says I've been doing very well with studying and well…Ron and his Dad have invited me, Harry, and Hermione to go to the Quidditch World Cup. I was wondering if I could go…"

"Of course you can go," Sirius said, laughing. "You silly girl. Your happiness is all that matters to me." He paused. "Just be careful, OK? And stay close to your friends. And listen…"

"Dad, I'm 14, not 4. I know what to do," she said, smiling earnestly. "You don't have to baby me."

"Sorry. This whole Dad thing is difficult. It's just I'm so happy to have you back in my life…and you've grown so much." He paused. "Oh! I almost forgot my present. And don't worry, this didn't cost me anything either."

He handed her two presents. The first one was a photo of her mother and himself when they were young at the Potters' wedding day. Her mother was in an elegant dress and her father in a tuxedo; they were dancing and smiling.

The second present was a large book and on the cover it said: THE BLACK FAMILY

"I thought you'd like to know about our family," he said. "Found it at my old house."

"I'll definitely read it," she said. "Thanks, Dad."

He hugged his daughter. Just having her near made him happy.

"OK, Dad," she said. "I have to go back. And please be careful. I don't want you running about after me. And please don't buy me so many expensive gifts."

"Alright, precious," he said. "Just keep in touch."

"I will, Dad."

He hugged his daughter one last time and transformed into a large, black dog and he walked down the street. She held the dress and the book tightly to her chest as she watched her father go down the street. She walked down towards Hermione's house.

Later that night, she lay on the bed and looked through the BLACK FAMILY album. Many of the photos were scowling at her or shouted things:

"FOUL, LOATHSOME, SCUM FROM THE LOINS OF A MUDBLOOD SLUT!"

Eponine slammed the book shut and flipped through to the family tree. She found it and looked at all the names on the Black Family Tree. She found Sirius's name; his face had been burned off. She was sad. Why would Sirius's own family do this to him? What had he ever done to deserve such a thing?

She looked at the family tree: BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, ANDROMENA TONKS, NARCISSA MALFOY…

The name Malfoy hit her like an oncoming train when she saw this. She and Draco Malfoy were cousins! She felt very sick, but on the other hand happy that she found this out. She could finally get her revenge to humiliate Malfoy once and for all after three years of humiliation.

"Hello, cousin," she practiced saying. And she could picture the look on his stupid face when she would say this.

"Eponine," said Hermione's voice.

Eponine slammed the book shut.

"Yes?" she said.

"Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to know if you're coming to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Oh, yes. Dad said I could go."

"OK. I'll let Mr. Weasley know. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning to go to the Weasleys. The game isn't until the day after tomorrow. So, we're leaving early to go to the Weasleys tomorrow."

"OK."

Eponine climbed under the covers and went to sleep, trying to dream about herself in her mother's dress…how beautiful she would look and all eyes would be on her, everyone who was mean to her was green with envy…she smiled, sighing…


	2. Mayhem at the Quidditch World Cup

Chapter Two

Mayhem at Quidditch World Cup

The next day, Eponine went school shopping with Hermione to get her school supplies for the new term. She bought her robes, her cauldrons, and her spell books.

After shopping, she had a large dinner and went to bed. As she lay in bed, drifting off to sleep, she began to dream very same disturbing dream she had days ago about Voldemort and Wormtail…the Dark Lady, the heirs…her mother…the screaming tea kettle…

She woke up in a cold sweat and objects were floating three inches off the floor…not wanting to wake anyone, she tried to set everything down slowly and carefully…but the bed crashed to the floor and broke, waking Hermione and her parents.

"What? "What was that?" they asked.

"I…uh…" Eponine stammered, embarrassed. "It's nothing. Just a bad dream."

"Well, since we're up, we're going to the Burrow to get Ron and Harry," said Hermione.

Together they went to the Burrow through the Floo Express along with her clothes and toiletries. Surprisingly, she found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley was awake; Mrs. Weasley was already making breakfast. She was greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were quite surprised by her new appearance.

"It's good to see you again, 'Ponine," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Oi!" said the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They stared at Eponine.

"'Ponine, is that you or did you transform into a veela?" asked Fred.

Eponine laughed. "No, it's me," she replied.

Hermione came downstairs with Harry and a rather sleepy Ron, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes. He probably didn't get much sleep last night. They all sat at the rather crowded table in the kitchen, eating pancakes, bacon and sausage for breakfast. Eponine never had a meal with lots of people; she imagined if her mother hadn't died and her father wasn't on the run, they could sit together as a family: her mother would cook and her father would set the table and then, they would sit down and talk and laugh as they ate.

Soon as breakfast was finished, Mr. Weasley, Fred and George, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Eponine left the Burrow and headed towards the forest.

"Ron, where exactly are we going?" asked Harry.

"Don't know," Ron said, sleepily. "Hey, Dad! Where are we going?"

"Haven't the foggiest," said Mr. Weasley. "Keep up!"

They continued to walk through the woods.

"Arthur!" said a voice in the distance. "It's about time, son!"

A tall figure came towards them, standing beside a tall tree. The man was a ruddy-faced wizard with long hair, glasses, wearing a cap and tweed colored jacket.

"Sorry, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "Some of us had a sleepy start." To the kids, he said, "This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me at the Ministry of Magic." Suddenly, a figure jumped down from the trees. He was rather handsome: tall, blonde and seventeen. "And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?"

"Yes, sir," said Cedric.

The girls whispered and blushed and giggled.

"Merlin's beard! You must be Harry Potter!" said Mr. Diggory.

"Yes, sir," said Harry. He shook hands with Harry.

"Great, great pleasure." Soon, that's when he saw Eponine. "My God! You must be Eponine Black! My, my! You look so much like your mother, yet, you have your father's eyes."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," she said, shaking his hand.

Soon, the wizards climbed up the hill with difficulty, owing their bulky backpacks, the ten of them went towards what looked like a moldy-looking old boot.

"Yes, it's just over there," said Mr. Diggory.

"Shall we?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Oh yea," said Mr. Diggory.

"We don't want to be late."

"Come on, nearly there now. Get yourself in a good position."

"Why are they standing around that manky old boot?" Harry asked.

"That isn't just any old manky old boot," said Fred.

"It's a Portkey," said George.

"Time to go!" said Mr. Weasley.

"What's a Portkey?" asked Harry.

Soon, everyone was crowding around the old boot, grabbing it. They stood there in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

"On three," said Mr. Diggory. "One…two…"

"Harry! Eponine!" said Mr. Weasley.

They grabbed it before Mr. Diggory said, "Three…"

That's what it happened. Eponine felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Harry and Mr. Weasley on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers; they were speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and—

"Let go, kids!" shouted Mr. Weasley.

"What?" cried Eponine.

"Let go!"

They let go and she heard herself scream and felt as though she was being sucked down a giant drain, swirling with colors. The four friends slammed on the ground along with Fred, George and Ginny. They groaned in pain and they saw Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory and Cedric float down with ease.

"I bet that cleared your sinuses, eh?" said Mr. Weasley, laughing. "Total shambles, as per usual."

Cedric Diggory helped Harry and Eponine up. He was staring at her.

"Don't I know you?" he asked.

"Eponine Black," she said. "You probably remember me collecting your shoes every morning…"

Cedric's eyebrows went up. "Really? I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you…you look so…different…and…"

His words had failed him: her golden hair shining in the sun, her glowing pale skin that had a pearly sheen, and her grey-blue eyes made him unable to find his words.

"Thank you," she said, smiling, knowing his intentions.

They arrived at what looked like a deserted stretch of misty moor. There was a rather large hill which the nine of them climbed up and soon, there was loud cheering and music was coming from the other side.

"Well, kids, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup," said Mr. Weasley.

There was a stretch of tents, there were colorful banners of green (for Ireland) and scarlet red (for Bulgaria); men on stilts wore the same colors and flags waved by fans. As they walked through the crowds, surrounded by colors from flags and fans on brooms, nearly knocking them over; soon they reached their tent, which was tiny. Eponine was sure they would be cramped inside; how would ten people fit inside that tiny tent? She ducked under the tent flap and she felt her jaw drop. She had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned three room flat with mismatched sofas and was complete with a kitchen and bathroom.

"Excellent, excellent," said Mr. Weasley. "Girls, choose a bunk and unpack. Ron, get out of the kitchen! We're all hungry!"

"Yea, get out of the kitchen, Ron," said Fred and George.

"Feet off the table!" said Mr. Weasley.

"Feet off the table!" they repeated.

By nightfall, they were heading towards the stadium; once there, salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes—green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria—which were screaming the names of the players, pointed green hats that contained dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectable figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Wow! Look at these!" Eponine cried, running towards a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except they were covered with weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the salesman eagerly. "You can replay action, slow everything down…and get flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain. Ten Galleons each."

"Four, please," Eponine said.

She went back to her friends and handed them Omnioculars; their eyes went wide with surprise.

"Eponine…you didn't have to…" said Ron.

"Please," she said. "You're my friends. Plus, I never shared anything with anyone…"

"'Ponine, you're the best," Hermione said. "I'll get us some programs."

They thanked Eponine with a hug. She had never felt any happier knowing she had great friends.

They climbed the stairs to their seats, climbing higher and higher; the stairs appeared to be bolted to the walls of rock that one would see inside a cavern.

"Blimey, Dad," said Ron. "How far up are we?"

"Well, put it this way," said a cold, mocking voice from below. It was Lucius Malfoy, who was sneering at them. "If it rains, you'll be the first to know."

Soon, Lucius was joined by his son, Draco, who was sneering as well. He was dressed all in black.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself," said Draco.

"Don't boast, Draco," said Lucius, ramming his cane into his stomach. "There's no need for these people."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Cinder-soot," said Draco. "I hardly recognized you without your filthy tatters and face. What happened? Did you stop rolling around the dustbin and find out what a bathtub is?"

"Nice to see you again, Draco," Eponine said, coldly.

"Tell me, Your Highness, I don't think you want to ruin those nice clothes sitting on a dirty bleacher…perhaps you'd like a throne to keep your royal bottom nice and clean…not that you don't know what it's like to be dirty."

"Now, now, Draco," said Lucius. "Be nice." Lucius looked at Eponine up and down. "Do enjoy yourself…while you can." He smirked at her.

Eponine wondered what that meant, but decided to walk away. She hated the Malfoys, even if they were family, she hated them with such acidity. She was sure one day that she would reveal to everyone that she and Malfoy were related…oh! What a humiliation that would be! Her own flesh and blood taunting and beating her for three long years…the tables would finally turn.

Soon, they got to their seats which were all the way at the top of the stadium, so high up! Balloons of white, green, red and black flew up from the stadium; flags of Bulgaria and Ireland waved, banners of red and green were held up, flashes from cameras and loud cheers filled Eponine's ears like the sea's roaring waves.

"Take your seats!" yelled Mr. Diggory over the loud cheering noises. "I told you these seats would be worth waiting for!"

Soon, a whoosh came right over their heads, nearly knocking them out of their seats. Green and white smoke emerged from the brooms. Irish music began to play and players in green and white came whooshing into the field gracefully.

"It's the Irish!" cheered Fred. "There's Troy!"

"And Mullet!" said George.

"And Moran!"

Soon, there was a flash of green and white and orange fireworks and they lights from the fireworks formed a huge leprechaun that danced an Irish jig. The crowds began to cheer loud:

"IRELAND! IRELAND! IRELAND!"

"Here come the Bulgarians!" yelled George.

The leprechaun disappeared in a flash of red fireworks and a team wearing scarlet and black robes came soaring onto the field and the stadium filled with louder cheers. A young man on his broom did a handstand, soaring through the air.

"Who's that?" asked Hermione.

"That, sis, is the greatest Seeker in the world!" said George.

A large photo of the boy formed in the stands, smiling proudly and riding his broom so gracefully.

"KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!" the crowd cheered.

Soon, the crowd began to silence when the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, began to speak.

"Good evening," he said. "As Minister of Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"

Soon, a small skinny wizard, completely bald with a rather bushy mustache, dressed in gold strode out into the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under his mustache and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm. He placed the crate on the ground and kicked it open; the two black Bludgers and the Golden Snitch flew out and into the stadium and then he picked up the Quaffle and tossed it into the air.

It was Quidditch she had never seen before all those years at Hogwarts when Harry had arrived. Though she wasn't allowed to watch the game while crawling at Snape's feet like a degraded dog, she still could remember some games she had seen. The speed of the players was incredible—the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Fudge only had time to say their names. Using the Omnioculars, Eponine spun the slow dial on the right again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top and was watching in slow motion while purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of crowd pounded against her eardrums.

Hawkshead Attacking Formation, she read as she watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Porskoff Ploy flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward towards the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soring beneath caught it—

"TROY SCORES!" roared Fudge and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland."

The Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements were so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves. Within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

There were roars and cheers from the scarlet clad supporters of Bulgaria. Soon, Krum dived towards the ground, causing Seeker Lynch to following.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shouted.

She was half right—at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the entire stadium. A huge groan arose from the Irish seats.

"FOOL!" yelled Fred and George. "Krum was feinting!"

Eponine pressed replay and play-by-play buttons on her Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial and put them back to her eyes. She watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. _**Wronsky Defensive Feint**_—_**Dangerous Seeker Diversion**_ read in shining purple letters. Krum hadn't seen the Snitch, he was just making Lynch copy him.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. Ireland got two penalty shots: once for Bulgaria using excessive use of elbows and the second time for refusing to listen to referee Mostafa.

Soon, Lynch had suddenly gone into a dive and Eponine was quite sure that this was no Wronsky Feint; this was the real thing…

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their seeker on…but Krum was on his tail. How could he see where he was going?

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And he was right—for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by referee Mostafa.

"The Snitch!" Eponine shouted. "Where's the Snitch?"

"He's got it—Krum's got it—it's all over!" shouted Harry.

Krum, his red robes shining in the light, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to realize what had happened. Then, slowly, there was rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Fudge shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

After the game, everyone was back in their tents. Fred and George were singing an Irish dance song with Ireland's flag wrapped around them.

"There's no one like Krum!" said Ron.

"Krum?" said Fred.

"Dumb Krum?" said George.

"He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind."

Fred and George flapped their arms like they were bats; Eponine was laughing so hard that she almost fell out of her seat.

"He's more than an athlete," said Ron.

"Dumb Krum!" said George.

"He's an artist!"

"I think you're in love, Ron," teased Ginny.

"Shut up!"

"Viktor, I love you!" the twins sang, mockingly, kneeling before Ron. "Viktor, I do."

"When we're apart, my heart beats only for you," the others joined in, laughing.

There were noises outside the tent.

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," said Fred.

"Stop it!" said Mr. Weasley; he was red in the face and sweating with eyes filled with fear. "It's not the Irish. We've got to get out of here now."

The screams were coming from outside the tent and there were people running in all different directions and the sounds of fire bursting. Eponine saw flames in the distance.

"Get out!" someone screamed. "It's the Death-Eaters!"

Eponine's heart began glowing brightly.

"Get back to the Portkey, everybody and stick together. Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility. Eponine, put your necklace out!" Mr. Weasley said.

"I can't!" Eponine said; she kept trying to cover it, but it shone only brighter.

Fire burst and smoke rose to the sky; Eponine felt her fingers kept slipping out of Hermione's hand. She felt the world was spinning and her entire body was burning; liquid fire seared inside her. Soon, there was a high-pitched female voice was whispering to inside her head in a strange, old language…images of white, pupil-less eyes stared at her…

"Eponine, don't let go!" Hermione said.

There were figures in black robes and skull masks, waving wands, setting tents on fire, whispering a language that was similar to the voice in her head: old and dark and distant…

The crowds were plowing into Eponine and her friends, separating them. She could hear Hermione's screams and they were constantly interrupted by the whispering female voice in her head; her words burned like fire, making her telekinetic energy set off in the most random places. People and objects were levitating…people who were levitating screamed…

(NO! NO! STOP! PUT THEM DOWN!)

Fireballs came shooting towards them and Eponine tried to get her mind from the voice whispering in her head…

Suddenly, she was knocked in the head by a running person and she was knocked out cold…

Eponine blinked her eyes…her entire body was cool and soaked from sweat. She saw burnt tents that were burnt pieces of rags and tent poles that stood like skeletons and trash was littered on the ground from tents or possessions that were left behind by everyone when they ran from the Death-Eaters.

She heard footsteps in the distance and sat up and saw a young man in a leather jacket.

"_Morsmorde_!" he cried and a green light came out of his wand and suddenly, an emerald green skull with fangs appeared and a snake came slithering out with fangs exposed.

Soon, the young man looked right at Eponine and walked towards her.

"We've been waiting for you, my lady," he said. "The Dark Lord has been waiting anxiously to meet you…"

Strange, he was speaking to her but his lips did not move. As he continued to approach, she heard the voices of Ron and Hermione, calling her and Harry. She began to run and suddenly she hit something…or someone, hurting her head and fell face first on top of someone…it was Harry; his glasses askew. She rubbed her head.

"Oh!" Eponine said, embarrassed. "Harry! I'm sorry!"

"That's alright," he said. "Are you OK?"

"Fine. Just a bump on the head."

Harry smiled slightly.

"Did you see that man?"

"Yea. I did."

"Did you hear what he said?"

"What? He said something? I didn't hear him say anything."

Eponine decided to keep her mouth shut. It was just like the time two years ago when she could hear the basilisk talking and speak to snakes. This, however, was completely different. It was as if she could hear his thoughts…

"We've been looking for you for ages!" said Ron. "Thought we'd lost you guys."

They looked towards the shining sky.

"What's that?" asked Harry. Suddenly, he gasped and clapped a hand to his head while Eponine's heart glowed furiously.

"_Stupefy_!" screamed voices that came out of nowhere. Red sparks came towards them…the four friends ducked. They continued to fire their wands and suddenly, the sparks bounced off of an invisible shield and into the distance. The wizards suddenly stared, stupefied…

"STOP!" yelled Mr. Weasley's voice. "That's my son!" He ran towards the four of them. "Ron, Hermione, Eponine, Harry! Are you alright?"

"We went to find them," Ron said.

"Which one of you conjured it?" said a man that looked like a Ministry official. He was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in a crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short grey hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were highly polished.

"Crouch, you can't possibly…"

"Do not lie! You've been discovered at the scene of the crime. And who blocked our spells? Which one of you?"

"Crime?" Eponine exclaimed.

"Barty," said Mr. Weasley. "They're just kids."

"What crime?" Harry asked.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry," said Hermione. "It's _his_ mark."

"What, Voldemort?" Eponine said.

"Those people tonight," said Harry. "In the masks, they're his too, aren't they? His followers?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Yea. Death-Eaters."

The man, Barty Crouch, nodded. "Follow me."

"There was a man, before," Harry added.

"I saw him too," said Eponine. "There!" She pointed to the spot where she saw him cast the Dark Mark.

"All of you, follow me!" said Barty Crouch.

"A man?" said Ron. "Who?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "We didn't see his face."

The five of them stood looking at the Dark Mark in the sky and watched as the snake formed a knot. Eponine had so many questions about what had happened so far. She wasn't sure if she could share these things with her friends…she could trust them…


	3. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter Three

Return to Hogwarts

Eponine sat quietly, staring out the window. She was ready to burst after what happened at the World Quidditch Cup. Yet, she was so relaxed from the trains smooth movement that it made her sleepy…she was looking forward to coming to Hogwarts to learn spells rather than scrub floors. While she was dreaming, she could hear voices…random voices…

"Anything from the trolley?" said the lady's voice.

She snapped awake and the voices faded. A lady with a trolley filled with sweets came by; Eponine had never seen so many except at Hogwarts on Halloween she stole from the kitchen. Ron was about to buy a packet of Droobles and a licorice wand until he saw how much money he had, Harry offered to buy them. He politely refused. Eponine bought licorice wands, pumpkin pasties, and a large lollipop and offered to share them with her friends, which they thanked her for. More children went to the candy trolley and they stopped in their tracks and stared at Eponine; nobody seemed to recognize her…but they had to look twice and whispered. She heard their thoughts…

(it's her! Black's daughter!)

(my god how beautiful she is hardly recognized her)

(her eyes just like his)

(with a father for a criminal, she looks more like a princess lucky her)

Eponine only smiled and went back inside her compartment with her friends.

"This is horrible!" said Hermione. "How could the Ministry not know who conjured it? Wasn't there any security or…"

"Loads," said Ron. "According to Dad. That's what worried them so much. Happened right under their noses."

Eponine rubbed her head; she had a headache from the constant noise of voices.

"What?" said Hermione.

"OK," Eponine said. "My powers have been off lately…and I'm hearing everybody's thoughts…"

"You mean, you can read minds?" Ron said. "What am I thinking of right now?"

"You really wanted those licorice wands," she said.

Ron went purple and his Drooble fell out of his mouth.

"Telepathy," Hermione said. "It's a rare gift. Only the most powerful wizards and witches possess them…mostly the Dark ones."

"Honestly, I don't want this…I don't want to hear people's thoughts. How do I shut it out?"

"Once I get to the library, I'll read up on it. We'll see what we can do about this. When did you first experience this?"

She told them about how she was hearing a cold, whispering voice that spoke in an ancient language and heard the thoughts of a young man at the World Quidditch Cup that night with the Death Eaters. She told them about the dream.

"The Dark Lady was Salazar Slytherin's mistress?" said Ron. "Sounds like a dirty git…probably hoodwinked the poor girl…"

"I've never heard of Salazar Slytherin having a mistress," said Hermione. "Perhaps the library can tell us more about the Dark Lady. You should tell your Dad about this. You know he'd want to hear about it from the dream to what happened at the Quidditch World Cup."

Eponine nodded and wrote, telling her dad everything from the dream to what happened at the World Quidditch Cup. She sealed the envelope with her Dad's name and gave it to her screech owl, Camille. She opened the train window and she flew out into the distance.

Soon, Hogwarts castle was appearing in the distance. It was like coming back to her old home…yet this time it felt more like home than the last nine years she had been there. She and her friends changed into their robes first before they got there. Soon as the train arrived at Hogwarts, they stepped off the train; the rain was coming down hard and fast that it was as though thick buckets of ice-cold water was being emptied on their heads.

However, the rain was the least of Eponine's concern; it still didn't shut out the random thoughts of people who saw her or whatever they were thinking. It was so noisy that it gave her a headache…yet it was funny to hear some of their thoughts, especially the most embarrassing ones. There were a hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. She and her friends got into a carriage and the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards Hogwarts Castle.

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Eponine could see Hogwarts coming nearer and nearer; its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind a thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps that she had walked many times. The four of them jumped from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent staircase.

They were greeted by Professor McGonagall in her tall, black witch's and green robes hat in the Great Hall.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "Now, before we can take our seats in the Great Hall, I have an announcement to make: the students from the wizarding schools are coming today. They are Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. I urge you strongly to be on your best behavior for when our guests arrive." She paused for a moment, looking at all the students. "You may take your seats in the Great Hall. The feast will begin soon."

Soon, she spotted Eponine in the crowd. "Ah, Miss Black," she said. "Professor Dumbledore would like to have a word with you in his office."

"Yes, ma'am," she said.

She followed Professor McGonagall inside the castle; she looked around it. It seemed only yesterday that she was here. Distant memories and familiar smells came to her mind. It was strange being here only now to be a student. They arrived at Dumbledore's office and Eponine heard her say the password to his office and the large griffon turned into steps and she walked up those steps as she had before years ago. She knocked on the door and heard a voice from the inside say, "Come in."

Eponine opened the door and saw Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk, looking over what seemed to be very important papers.

"Headmaster," she said. "You wanted to see me."

Dumbledore smiled. "Please, Eponine," he said. "You don't have to call me 'headmaster' anymore. You're no longer a staff member."

"Sorry, sir," she said. "You know, old habits die hard."

Dumbledore looked at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Anyway, back to business," she said. "I trust you've been studying over the summer."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear this. Anyway, I am meeting with you with a few things: first, your father's visitations and having you sorted into your house."

Eponine nodded.

"I have been staying in touch with your father over the summer. I know it is difficult for the both of you: your father is an accused criminal…no offense, that's just how the Ministry put it…and is on the run and yet he wishes to have a relationship with you. Anyway, over the summer, your father and I have made arrangements so you can see each other in secret. However, you must be aware that this is a serious risk you and I are taking. I do want you to have a relationship with your father and yet, I don't want your father to be arrested again."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"This is why I must ask you do not tell anyone about your meetings with your father." Eponine was about to open her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her. "I understand that you have trustworthy friends, but this is a serious crime we are committing. Aiding and/or withholding information about the whereabouts of a fugitive is a serious crime and the consequences of this are extremely severe on both our parts. So I ask you to keep this a secret."

"Very well, sir," she said, reluctantly.

"Good. Now, you will meet with your father every weekend. First, you will come straight to my office right after breakfast and I will escort you safely to meet him in a specified location. You will meet with him in the afternoon and stay with him until it is time to leave Hogsmeade. I will meet you and escort you back to Hogwarts. However, if you wish to be with your friends on a specific weekend, please let me know so that I may tell your father."

"I understand," she said.

"Good. Good. And now, lastly, about sorting you into your house. The staff and I have discussed about how we should sort you. The debate was quite long over the summer. We feel that it is strongly recommended that you are sorted privately in my office. We feel that you would feel a bit silly being the only fourth year with a bunch of first years. Professor McGonagall and I will be witnesses. Once you are sorted, we will introduce you at the start-of-term feast."

"Well, thank you, sir," she said. "For being so considerate."

"Very well. Professor McGonagall should be here soon and we will sort you."

At the start-of-term feast, the Great Hall was crowded already. Eponine stood at the landing on the stone steps, watching the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive. The girls from Beauxbatons stared at her enviously and the boys from Durmstrang stared in awe. Eponine could hear some of their thoughts; she longed to block them out because she was so sick of the noise. Her hands were sweating uncontrollably as all eyes stared at her. She dipped her head with acknowledgement.

"Well, now that we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement," said Dumbledore's voice from outside the Great Hall. She listened to his speech when it was interrupted…

"Are you a veela?" asked a Bulgarian boy.

"Pardon?" asked Eponine.

"Veela: the most beautiful of all creatures in Bulgaria. Legend has it that they can charm a man with just one look. And yet, I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you. Surely, the veela must envy you."

Eponine chuckled. "No," she said. "I'm just an ordinary girl."

"Still, you are beautiful, miss."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm Eponine Black."

"Viktor Krum, Miss Eponine." And he took her hand and kissed the back of her hand and Eponine couldn't help but giggle and she blushed. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure," she said, smiling. "You did splendid at the Quidditch World Cup this past summer."

"Thank you."

"So, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event," Dumbledore continued. "The Triwizard Tournament. For those of you who don't know the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single student is chosen to compete. Now, let me be clear, if chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted. But more of that later. For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress, Madame Maxine."

Eponine watched as the young girls, dressed in powder blue cloaks and hats and they marched into the Great Hall and sighed as they passed by; butterflies erupted from their cloaks and turned into blue powder that disappeared in the air. Soon, a cart wheeling girl dressed in a silk harlequin outfit followed from behind them along with a pretty girl with silvery blonde hair who was staring enviously at Eponine earlier, dancing ballet. Behind her was a tall, handsome woman with olive skin, black eyes and black hair with streaks of red that was cut into a bob and a large beaky nose. Applause burst into the Great Hall.

"And now our friends from the north," Dumbledore said. "Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their high headmaster, Igor Karkaroff."

Boys dressed in fur cloaks that were made of what appeared to be matted fur and matching ushankas, blood red uniforms, and buzz cut haircuts, came in and they held staffs, which they pounded on the ground, making sparks fly and spun in the air until they formed gold blurs. Soon, Viktor Krum entered with a man following behind him. The man was thin, had black hair and a long goatee that failed to hide his weak chin.

"It's him!" said Ron. "It's Viktor Krum!"

"Albus!" said Karkaroff in a thick Bulgarian accent, which sounded fruity and unctuous. They embraced.

"And now," said Dumbledore. "May I introduce our newest student to Hogwarts: I present to you Eponine Amaryllis Jane Black."

Slowly the doors opened and the light from inside shone her golden hair and pearly skin. She stood alone in the doorway and all eyes were on her and she heard whispers, both audible and inaudible. Her face was slightly red and stepped inside the Great Hall. She was greeted with applause and smiles; the Gryffindors cheered the loudest because she was wearing their colors.

"We got Black!" cheered Fred and George.

She was greeted with pats on the back and hair ruffles from her fellow housemates and her friends scooted over so she could sit. It felt so weird sitting down at a table after sitting on the floor for so long like a dog begging for scraps. She smiled confidently. She ate her dinner, chatting with her friends or her housemates, asking all sorts of questions about her new transformation and her release and so forth. When they asked questions about her dad, she said she didn't know anything.

She turned towards the High Table and scanned to look at the teachers. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hooked-nosed, greasy haired Snape, her old master, staring venomously at her. She couldn't help but smirk. She guessed he was still mad about her dad escaping and her being released last year. The only reason Snape hated Eponine was because of her father—he and Sirius had had been enemies since their school days. She was so happy that she couldn't wait to see Snape in class so she show him how much she had changed over the summer so she could rub it in his abnormally large nose.

When dinner was over, desserts appeared: mountains of cakes and ice cream appeared on golden plates. Eponine piled some cake and ice cream onto her plate. Soon, four men came in, carrying what looked like a miniature tower, made of wood, carved in a Gothic architecture and painted with gilded gold and jewels that glittered in the candlelight. They placed it in front of Dumbledore and walked back towards the door.

"Your attention, please," said Dumbledore. "I'd like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That is what awaits for the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, this student must survive three tasks; three extremely dangerous tasks. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this, we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartimus Crouch…"

Soon, the door behind the High Table opened and a stranger stepped in. Yet, nobody seemed to acknowledge his presence; probably it was because he hid in the shadows. The enchanted ceiling began to turn dark with clouds and thunder and lightning began to appear. The students began to scream and duck for cover…soon, the man in the shadows took out his wand and cleared the sky back to its original state. Everyone looked in his direction.

The man had a face was unlike any face nobody had seen. His entire face was heavily scarred, especially around his left eye; it looked as though someone had done a bad job sewing job. He had one normal eye and one large vivid, electric blue eye was held in a leather strap and a metal socket. It was moving ceaselessly, without blinking and was rolling independently in all directions. His lips were thin and the mouth looked more like a diagonal gash, his red hair was colorless and hung just at his neck. He leaned upon a long staff that looked similar to what looked like a piece of weathered wood with what looked like a ram's skull carved on the top. He wore a traveling leather coat that was also weathered looking. He walked with a slight limp and there was a dull clunk that echoed through the hall whenever he took a step. Eponine looked at his foot and saw a metal shoe peeking from his pant leg.

"Bloody hell!" said Ron. "It's Mad-Eye Moody!"

"Alastor Moody? The Auror?" said Hermione.

"Auror?" Eponine said.

"Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him," said Ron. "He's supposed to be mad as a hatter these days."

Suddenly, his blue eye went right onto Harry and Eponine; he approached Dumbledore and shook his hand, which was badly scarred as his face.

"My dear friend," said Dumbledore. "Thanks for coming."

"Stupid ceiling," Moody grumbled.

Soon, he went towards a corner and reached for something that looked like a flask and took a long draught from it. Then, he shook his head slightly.

"What's that he's drinking, you suppose?" said Seamus Finnegan, a classmate of hers.

"Dunno," said Harry. "But I don't think it's pumpkin juice."

Soon, Mr. Crouch stood up and approached the front of the High Table.

"After due consideration," he began. "The Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of 17 shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament."

The room filled with outburst of outrage and protests.

"This decision is final," he said in a louder voice over the protests.

"NO FAIR!"  
"THAT'S RUBBISH!" shouted the Weasley twins. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore shouted and all was silent and eyes were towards the front.

Soon, Dumbledore waved his wand and the miniature tower shrunk to the floor as if it were liquid and there was a large, roughly hewn cup that gilded paint around its feet with similar Gothic style architecture as the tower it had been inside. Soon, blue flames erupted from its brim.

"The Goblet of Fire," said Dumbledore. "Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only to write their name on a piece of parchment and throw it into the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As for this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has already begun."

Soon, it was time for bed. The students went with the prefects to their dormitories. The Gryffindors went to the 7th floor and went through the portrait of the Fat Lady and inside. Eponine followed Hermione to the girls' dormitory. She found her things in her room already and smiled, knowing the house-elves had prepared everything.

"Hey!" said Parvati Patil. "You're Black's daughter, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Eponine.

Soon, all the girls gathered around Eponine's bed, asking to hear more about how it felt to be free and all other stuff until it sounded like a large flock squawking magpies.

"Alright!" Hermione said. "That's enough. She's not an animal at the zoo you can gawk at!" She shooed the girls away. "Let her get some sleep."

"Thanks," Eponine said, gratefully.

She took out the picture frame of her mother and father dancing and placed it on the nightstand next to her four-poster bed.

"Wow!" said Hermione. "These sheets are really warm."

"Oh, yes," said Eponine. "The house-elves have heating pans that they place under the beds."

"There are house-elves _here_?" she said. "Here at _Hogwarts_?"  
Eponine laughed slightly. "Of course they do! Over a hundred of them. I worked around them most of the time. You don't think I cleaned this _whole_ castle by myself, do you?"

"I can't believe this! I've never seen one!"

"Well, they hardly leave the kitchen by day," Eponine said, remembering all those years in the kitchen, washing dishes with them. "They do some petty chores like making the beds while the students are at class, cleaning at night, cooking food, and so forth. I worked during the day and they worked at night. Nobody is really supposed to see them."

"Don't they get paid?" she asked. "They get holidays, don't they? And sick leave, and pensions and everything?"  
"Hermione, they don't want sick leave and pensions. They're happy just working. Honestly."

Hermione muttered something that sounded like "slave labor", but she wasn't sure. She looked at the dancing picture of her mother and father and enjoyed the soft, warm bed she was lying in; she liked the down feather pillow that sunk down with the weight of her head. It sure was nice sleeping in a clean, warm room after all those years of sleeping in a cold, tiny attic with a leaky roof. She couldn't help but smile while she slept.


	4. The Unforgivable Curses

Chapter Four

The Unforgivable Curses

"Did you see her?"

"Who?"

"Her. Sirius Black's daughter."

"Did you see her eyes? Looks just like his."

"I'm _sure_ she's half veela or something…"

Everyone stared at her and she heard all thoughts from inaudible and audible. Her blonde hair was held up with a clip and she carried her books in her leather book bag. She was grateful to have friends like Hermione, Harry and Ron, who would shoo the gawking students away.

They went to the Great Hall; the ceiling there was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Eponine examined their new schedules over breakfast. Eponine ate her porridge with raspberries, enjoying every warm scoop that she ate.

"Today's not bad…outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures…damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…"

"Great," Eponine said. "Just what I need on my first day here is putting up with Malfoy's rubbish."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. Eponine heard his thought about how he couldn't deal with Professor Trelawney predicting his death all the time.

"You should've given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

The four friends walked across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived at greenhouse three for Herbology. Professor Sprout smiled at Eponine when she called her name during roll call. Today they were dealing with the ugliest plants she had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a large number of large, shiny swelling upon it, which appeared to be liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus…"

"The _what_?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to your skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. Eponine had learned that the bubotuber pus was used for stubborn forms of acne when in a diluted form.

The bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling this was the end of lesson and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbed up the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's wooden cabin, which stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous grey boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" said Hagrid, grinning at the four of them. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want to miss this—Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Eponine and Ron said together.

Hagrid pointed to the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backwards.

"Eurgh" was just about summed up what the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Eponine's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. They were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small _phut_, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"Only just hatched," said Hagrid, proudly. "So you'll be able ter raise 'em yourselves. Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it."

"And why would we _want_ to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciative at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they _do_?" asked Malfoy. "What is the _point_ of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer just feedin' 'em today. Now, you'll want ter try 'em on a few different things—I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer—I got ant eggs an' frog livers and a bit o' grass snake—just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," Seamus muttered.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could've made Harry, Ron, Hermione and Eponine pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Eponine couldn't suppress the suspicion that the thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths. Eponine didn't seem to mind dealing with frog liver…it was a lot better than brushing Snape's disgusting hair for nine years.

"Well, well, well," said Malfoy with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, flanking him. "Hardly recognized you, Cinder-soot."

"Hello, Malfoy," she said, annoyed.

"Tell me, Cinder-soot, did your fairy godmother show up and turn your pumpkin into a coach drawn by six white horses, which are actually rats? If the clock strikes midnight, will you be back to work, rolling in the dustbin?"

Eponine made a sarcastic laugh. "Very funny, Malfoy. You're a brilliant farceur."

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

When the bell rang to start the start of afternoon classes, Ron, Harry and Eponine set off for the North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.

The sweet perfume spread from the fire met their nostrils. As ever, the curtains were closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Ron, Harry and Eponine walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room and sat down on the same small circular table.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump.  
She was a very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face. She was wearing a large amount of beads, chains and bangles.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Eponine. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the trouble soul within. I see difficult times ahead for you…most difficult…I fear the only thing you dread will come to pass…"  
Eponine rolled her eyes along with Ron.

"I'm perfectly fine," she said.

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," she said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingled…"

Eponine was bored; the perfume made her sleepy and stupid as Professor Trelawney's rambling talks went on and on. She drifted off into a dreamlike state, hearing the lullaby…

_There's a kingdom by the sea_

_As far away as can be_

_Soon you'll be_

_Here with me_

_And together we shall live happily_

_In our kingdom by the sea_

She dreamed about her Dad; how they would live in a giant castle by the beach and take walks there and talk about stuff a father and daughter would talk about…she even pictured her mother there with her as well; her father and mother, smiling and laughing as they held hands as they sat on the blanket, watching a little Eponine play on the beach, collecting sea shells and splashing in the ocean, laughing and clapping…

"'_Ponine_!" said Ron, shaking her out of her stupor.

"Huh?" she said, stupidly. The classroom giggled when she said this. "Sorry."

"Well, dear," said Professor Trelawney. "What do you see?"

Eponine looked at her planetary chart and saw there were a cluster of stars.

"Um…I see a cluster of stars; that could mean success and popularity…"

Professor Trelawney looked at the circular chart and gasped.

"My dear," she said. "Clearly, something is coming…fire will light the sky…the stars will hear your call…raining destruction from the sky…"

Eponine sighed with annoyance while Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were oohing. Clearly, Hermione was right. Professor Trelawney was an old fraud. How could she possible call the stars? It was ridiculous. Sure, she could move objects with her mind, but calling the stars…what rubbish!

"Ahhhh," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, making Eponine snigger.

She was glad when the bell rang because she wanted to get out of that perfume infested place and get some air. For homework, they had to work on a planetary chart and fill the position of the planets at the moment of their birth and detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements will affect you next month.

The next class was with Mad-Eye Moody. He stood at the front of the class, his blue eye moved ceaselessly.

"Alastor Moody," he said. "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end." He paused. "Any questions?"

Nobody spoke a word.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach," he said. "But first, which of you can tell me how many unforgivable curses there are?"

"Three, sir," Hermione said.

Eponine felt a sense of discomfort in her voice. She did as well. Her inkwell trembled slightly. NO! she had to keep her powers under control. Not today! She was not going to ruin her first day by letting her powers get the best of her.

"And they are so named?" he asked.

"Because they are unforgivable," she replied. "The use of any one of them will…"  
"Earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban, correct," said Moody. "Am I right, Miss Black, knowing that father of yours, eh?"

All eyes went onto Eponine who felt terribly uncomfortable again. Her face turned red and wished that she could disappear. Rage began to pump into her blood, causing her inkwell to tremble more…

(no no no NO! don't!)

Malfoy and his cronies sniggered.

"Just ignore them," Hermione whispered under her breath.

"How do you know my father?" she said.

"Well, he was in Azkaban, am I right?" Eponine still could feel everyone's eyes boring into her and her face turned redder. "Now, the Ministry thinks you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different! You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your chewing gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnegan."

Everyone was shocked. Moody's back was turned. Apparently his eye could see right through objects, even the back of his head.

"Oh, boy. The old codger can see out the back of his head," whispered Seamus.

Moody chucked a piece of chalk at Seamus and everyone ducked.

"And hear across classrooms!" he bellowed. "So, which curse shall we see first?" He paused. "Weasley!"

"Yes?" said a rather frightened Ron.

"Stand."

Ron stood up slowly with a bit of reluctance.

"Give us a curse," he said.

"Well, my dad did tell me about one: the Imperius Curse."

"Oh yea. Your father would know all about that. Gave the Ministry a bit of a grief a few years ago. Perhaps this will show you why."

Moody approached his desk and took out an insect out of a glass jar.

"_Engorgio!_" he said. The insect went six times its size. It was ugly black with orange spots. It had six legs and two claws. Some people in the front moved back, scared.

"_Imperio!_"

Soon, the insect began to hop from desk to desk; the one it landed on, they gasped or screamed while the others laughed.

"Don't worry. It's completely harmless," said Moody.

It hopped towards Ron's head, which was shaking uncontrollably.

"If she bites, it's lethal!" Moody said.

He made the insect hop from person to person, laughing madly.

"What are you laughing at?" yelled Moody at Malfoy who was gawaffing and it landed on Malfoy's face. Eponine had never laughed so hard when she heard Malfoy's girlish screams.

"Get it off! GET IT OFF ME!"

Moody was laughing loudly and crazily. "Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out the window?" The insect soon floated towards an open window, hovering. "Drown herself?" Then, it hovered itself towards a bucket of water.

The classroom went silent at this; nobody thought it was funny anymore. It was a horrible sight to see: eight legs waving frantically as if a way to say 'help me!' Slowly, Moody made the insect float back towards him and he carefully placed it on the desk.

"Scores of wizards and witches have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of Imperius Curse. But here's the rub: how do we sort out the liars?"

Nobody answered.

"Another, another," said Moody. Everybody raised their hands, but Moody picked Neville Longbottom, a round faced boy. "Longbottom, is it? Up, come on." Neville stood up slowly and scared a bit after what had just happened. "Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude in Herbology."

Neville nodded. "There…there's the…" he stammered. "The Cruciatus Curse."

"Correct, correct," said Moody. "Come, come." He gestured him up towards his desk. "Particularly nasty. The torture curse." He pointed his wand at the bug. "_Crucio!_"

The bug began to squeal and squirm horribly as if it were in a great amount of pain. Neville's face was staring painfully, his hands clenched into fists and his knuckles were white. Eponine suddenly began to hear screams…a male and female voice. Two figures on the floor…Little Neville in his crib, completely unaware of what was happening…

Then, it was interrupted by a third female voice, screaming…something from a distant memory from long ago…a woman's hands gripping the crib…glass vials began to shake uncontrollably on the shelves…Eponine tried to keep stop it…

"STOP IT!" yelled Hermione, shrilly. "Can't you see it's bothering him? Stop it!"

"Stop…" Eponine whimpered, clasping her hands to her head. Tears were forming in her eyes.

Moody raised his wand and the insect relaxed and stopped screaming and squirming. He picked up the insect and walked over towards Hermione and Eponine's desk with the insect in his hand. Eponine felt sick…she was sure the last one was going to be bad…

"Perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable curse, Miss Granger?"

Hermione only shook her head, near the brink of tears.

"No?" he said. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air—instantaneously, the insect fell flat on his back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead with eight legs in the air. Eponine let out a slight gasp and a window shattered, scaring everyone. They looked around the room frantically as if to see what did that. Eponine's face turned red and tried to not look guilty; she didn't want anyone to know her secret. Hermione put a hand on her hand as a way to comfort her.

"The Killing Curse," he said. "Only two people have survived it. And they're sitting right here in this room."

He gestured towards Harry and Eponine and all eyes were upon them. She stared at the insect. So that's how her mother died…exactly like that insect. Had she been unblemished and unmarked too? Had she simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from her body?

She continued to picture her mother's death over and over again for years now, ever since she found out that she was murdered, ever since she'd found out about what happened that night: Wormtail betraying her parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who came to find them at their cottage. Only, he didn't find her Dad at home, only her Mum...how he opened the door with his wand…her mother screaming as she ran up the stairs, maybe tripping on the way up…how she begged her to not kill her child…then, Voldemort demanded her to give him the baby, yet she refused, protecting her baby in front of her crib…then, there was screaming…lots of screaming…then, he had murdered her, before turning his wand on Eponine, who lay in her crib, screaming and crying and objects flying all over…colors of crimson red and green light and the green bouncing away off an invisible shield…Voldemort fled, screaming in pain…the sound of her father's footsteps when he heard his baby screaming and his sobbing and screams when he saw her dead mother…

Eponine knew these details because she heard her parents' voices when she had fought the dementors last year with Harry—for that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless in their own despair…

Nobody spoke until the bell rang—but when Moody dismissed them and they had left the classroom and went down the spiral steps.

"Miss Black," he said. "Might I have a word with you?"

Eponine told her friends she would catch up with them later. She clutched her books close to her chest and stared with gray blue eyes, filled with tears of rage.

"You have some gall saying that about my father," she said, coldly. The glass on a window trembled slightly.

"That's what I want to talk to you about," said Moody. "I want to apologize for insulting your father…it must be tough, knowing that...you know…"

"You have no idea what I've been through…I've gone through enough pain in my life." She lost her words, and then she drew in a long breath and sighed. "Professor, I can deal with any kind of humiliation because I have endured it for so long. Yet, when you say things like that about my father, it really crosses the line. I am fully aware that my father is a criminal from Azkaban, but I don't need it to be publicly broadcasted."

"It won't happen again," he said.

"Apology accepted," she said.

"You can go."

She got homework on the first day of class and she never imagined it would be so much. Eponine clutched her books and went to the Gryffindor Tower, crawling through the portrait hole and sitting on the sofa near the fire, opening her book and read her Divination homework. She heard Ron and Harry's footsteps approach her; they looked very worried.

"'Ponine?" said Harry. "Are you OK?"

Eponine nodded.

"What did Moody want to say to you?" asked Ron.

"He wanted to apologize for insulting my father," she said. "That's all."

"Well, that's good," said Harry. "Shall we get to work on our Divination, then?"

She nodded and they worked on their Divination homework together and they began making up the most ridiculous things of what would happen to them next month. They laughed together as they worked on their homework. Hermione came into the Gryffindor room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.

"Hello," she said. "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron, triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down; laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair and pulled Ron's predictions towards her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sarcastically as Crookshanks leapt up and curled up on her lap.

"Ah, well, at least I've been forewarned," Ron yawned.  
"You seemed to be drowned twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious that you made these up?" Hermione said.

"How dare you!" said Eponine, in a mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," she replied hastily.

Harry laid down his quill, having just predicted his own death by decapitation.

"What's in the box?" she asked, pointing at it.

She took off the lid and showed them the contents. Inside were about fifty badges all of different colors, but all were bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

" 'Spew'?" Eponine, picking up the badge and looking at it.

"What's this all about?" asked Harry.

"Not _spew_," said Hermione, impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."  
"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly. "I've only just started it."

"What? Why?" asked Ron.

"After Eponine told me about house-elf enslavement, I decided that house-elves should deserve pay and pensions."

"How many members have you got?" asked Ron.

"Well—if you three join—four," said Hermione.

"And you think e want to walk around wearing badges that say 'spew', do you?" asked Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put _Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in their Legal Status_—but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been reasearching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it years before now."

"Hermione," Eponine sighed. "I'm telling you that they don't want pay and pensions."

"Well, I think…"  
"Trust me, take it from someone who's been in domestic servitude for nine years…"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, acting like she hadn't heard a word. "Are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresenteded."

"And how do we do all of this?" asked Harry.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione, happily. "I thought two Sickles to join—that buys a badge—and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron—I've got you a collecting tin cup upstairs—and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. And 'Ponine, you can be vice-president."

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed a three of them and Eponine sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron and Harry's face.

"Alright," Eponine said. "I'll support you…IF you'll include abandoned, illegitimate wizard children. They deserve the same rights as normal wizards. You have no idea what they do to them: they force them to work day and night in poorhouses in terrible conditions. Some of them are abused, sick, underfed and dying."

"Fine," said Hermione. Eponine read her mind and it told her that she was very sincere.

Soon, their conversation was interrupted by a soft _tap, tap_ on the window. Eponine looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a screech owl perched on the window sill.

"Camille!" she cried, and she launched herself out of her chair and across the room to pull open the window.  
Camille flew inside and landed on the window sill, shaking off the water from her feathers.

"About time!" said Eponine. She pulled the grubby piece of parchment from Camille's beak. It fit right in the palm of her hand. She hastily opened it and sat down and began to read, whereupon Camille fluttered onto her knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a hurry. Eponine read it aloud:

_Dearest Eponine,_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about you have told me is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If anything else happens, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is. I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron, Hermione and Harry. Keep your eyes open, precious._

_Your father_

Eponine looked at her friends.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming _back_?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "'Ponine—what's up?"

"I don't know," she said. Then, she sounded angry, "I shouldn't have told him! I _told_ him not to come up here! Coming back because he thinks I'm in trouble when there's really nothing wrong with me! Now, I'm going to lose him!"

"'Ponine," said Hermione. "He's your father. Any father would do the same if they knew their child was in danger."

"I'm going to bed," she said, shortly. "See you in the morning."

Upstairs in the dormitory, she pulled on her nightgown (a gift from Mrs. Granger) and into her four poster bed. She felt so guilty about lying to her friends about her and her father. They would be seeing each other on the weekends, but she still felt guilty not telling them…but she made a promise to Dumbledore. What they were doing was dangerous and illegal: if anyone knew what they were doing, the three of them would be done for: Dumbledore would be fired, probably go to Azkaban, her father would be returned to Azkaban and the Dementor's Kiss would be performed, leaving him with no memory, and Eponine would either be placed in the poorhouse or in Azkaban, who knew? She couldn't go back to domestic servitude. She lay staring up at the dark canopy of her bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and she tried closing her eyes.


	5. The Goblet of Fire

Chapter Five

The Goblet of Fire

The next day was History of Magic, Transfiguration, Charms and Potions with the Slytherins. Eponine hated History of Magic with Professor Binns droning about goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. She had Transfiguration; though McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House that still didn't stop her from giving so much homework. Transfiguration was difficult, yet Eponine, thanks to Hermione's help, managed to do her lesson. When at Charms, Professor Flitwick gave a squeak of delight when he reached her name in roll call. She did perfectly in Charms, of course; today they practiced a summoning charm.

As she walked down the steps towards the dungeons for Potions, memories came to her mind of how many times she walked up and down those stairs. She entered Snape's classroom and saw the dark little corner where she used to sit during his lessons, polishing shoes or sewing, in her tatters, shivering in the cold. She walked towards it and stared at it, remembering the stone floor, the bricks, the shelf that cast the dark shadow that hid her from everyone, right behind Snape's desk. It was now empty and a spider web had formed there.

"Are you alright, 'Ponine?" asked Harry.

"Fine," she said.

She sat back down, staring at that little, dark corner that was now empty, seeing the ghost of herself, sitting there, shivering and then fade away. The door slammed open and Snape went to the front of the class. He began to speak, just like she remembered how he spoke, catching every word. This week they were going to work on antidotes. While he was taking roll call, he stopped at Eponine's name:

"Well, well," he said. "Miss Black. Daddy's little princess has come to Hogwarts at last…"

The Slytherins snickered.

"It's good to see you again, Professor," she said, coldly.

"You may have changed outwardly, but you're still just like that criminal father of yours, Miss Black."

Eponine stared defiantly and silently. Throughout the lesson, Snape continued to stare at her venomously. Eponine tried to read his thoughts, but was surprised that she could not. It appeared that he had some kind of mental block. Her telepathy was weak and sporadic like her telekinesis when it first showed up: most of the time, she would hear every thought that everyone was thinking and it gave her a headache to hear the constant noise, drowning her own thoughts…then, there was the occasional images that popped into her head, like with Neville when she saw the image of his parents being tortured yesterday…it bothered her that she could see these…

During the class, Snape was forcing them to research antidotes; everyone seemed to take this one seriously as he hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked…and by the way he was staring at her, Eponine was sure it was her. He seemed to have attained a new level of vindictiveness over the summer…Eponine was sure that it was because her Dad had escaped from Hogwarts and she was released upon his request. Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle kept throwing things at Eponine as a way to provoke her. Eponine just ignored them, despite the fact that some of the cauldrons were trembling from her rising anger. Also, Neville had melted his cauldron (Ron said it was his sixth one so far) and Snape gave him detention, and he returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harry and Eponine as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yea," said Harry. "Moody."

For as long as Eponine had been working in the castle, she knew that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it. There were times that he even yelled or beat Eponine whenever he didn't get a job; she knew that those were the times to stay out of Snape's way. Snape had disliked all of the previous Dark Arts teachers and shown it—but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Whenever she saw the two of them together, at mealtimes or when they passed in the hall—she had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him," Eponine said, thoughtfully.

With Hermione's help, Eponine had created a support group for illegitimate wizard children called Advocacy for Wizard Children of Illegitimacy. Hermione and Eponine would go around, asking people to sign up. A few seemed mildly interested in what Hermione had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke. Yet, surprisingly, everyone was in favor of Eponine's campaign for illegitimate children while a jealous Hermione looked on as they signed a petition to revoke the law against illegitimate children, including closing down poorhouses, placing them in proper housing in clean conditions and to attend Hogwarts. The only people who mocked the idea were the Slytherins, especially Malfoy, who called her a 'slut baby'.

Eponine tried to support Hermione's campaign for S.P.E.W., but the more she saw people wearing her badges supporting her advocacy, she got upset. She kept badgering people, especially Ron, Harry and Eponine to wear the badges, then persuaded others to do the same and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. Fred and George had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?" asked George.

"No, of course not," said Hermione, curtly. "I hardly think students are supposed to…"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred. "Loads of times, to nick food."

"Counting the many times I had to shoo you out," Eponine said.

"Who could forget?" said Fred, laughing; making her laugh as well. "Good times. Anyway, the point is, we've met them, and they're happy."

"That's what I've been saying all along," Eponine added.

"'Ponine's right," said George. "They think they've got the best job in the world…"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione said hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Camille dropped a letter in front of Eponine and read it. It was from her Dad.

_Eponine,_

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I just spoke to Dumbledore about this weekend. I can't wait to see you this weekend. Also, since there's a risk of me being caught, don't use Camille, keep changing owls and don't worry about me, and just watch out for yourself. Snape's not bothering you at all, is he?_

_Dad_

Eponine tucked the letter into her pocket.

"What was that?" asked Harry.

"Nothing," she lied. "Just Dad telling me that he's hidden."

She could feel the guilt eating up inside her. She wanted to tell her friends that she would be seeing her dad, but then Harry would want to see him…she knew he was his godfather and how much he adored him, but she promised Dumbledore that she wouldn't tell anyone about their meetings.

XXXX

As the days went by, Saturday came. Most of the students would normally have breakfasted late. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Eponine, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they did on weekends. When they went down into the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool and a thin white line with some ancient runes was traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

They watched older students put their names in the Goblet of Fire. There were claps when someone put their name in. Soon, Cedric Diggory was pushed along by a bunch of his friends, saying,

"Come on, Cedric, put it in!"

He crossed the Age Line and put his name in and everyone applauded.

"Imagine," said Ron. "Eternal glory. Three years from now when we're old enough to be chosen."

"Yea, right. Better you than me."

Soon, there were cheers from the hall. Fred and George came running in the hall, brandishing two small vials.

"Well, lads, we done it," said Fred.

"Cooked it up just this morning," said George.

"It's not going to work," Hermione said, warningly with a smile on her face.

"Oh, yea?" said Fred.

"And why's that, Granger?" said George.

"You see this?" she said, pointing to the glowing ring with runes on the floor. "This is an Age Line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?"

"So, a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion."

"Ah, but that's why it's so brilliant," said George.

"Because it's so pathetically dim-witted," said Fred. They stood up on the tables and shook their vials. "Ready Fred?"

"Ready, George."

"Bottoms up," they said together, then hooked their arms together and they drank from opposite vials. Then, with the eyes of every person in the Great Hall upon them, they took a deep breath and jumped across the age and there was a long silence and nothing happened.

"Yes! YES!" They said.

Everyone cheered and applauded. Then, they took their parchments with their names on it and tossed it into the Goblet of Fire. Nothing.

"Yes! YES!" they said, cheering and more applause. For a split second, everyone thought it had worked—the Weasley twins had certainly thought so—suddenly, blue flames came shooting out and the Weasley twins were hurled out of the white line as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to the injury…they sat up, their red hair had turned to grey and they had sprouted identical long white beards, which were starting to grow. The entrance hall rang with laughter.

"You said!" said Fred.

"_You_ said!" said George.

Together, they were wrestling on the floor, arguing over whose fault it was; people formed a ring around, chanting 'fight, fight'. Suddenly, there were loud fireworks sounds. Everyone went silent and there in the doorway was none other than Dumbledore.

"I did warn you," he said in a deep amused voice and everyone turned to see him. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go to Madam Pomfrey. She's already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours." Then, he turned to Eponine, "Miss Black, I need to see you in my office, please."

Eponine closed her book and told her friends she would see them later. She followed Dumbledore to his office, keeping out of sight.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Well, let's go. Your father is waiting. Oh, and he may want this." He held out a bag. Eponine opened it and inside was chicken legs. She tucked the bag of chicken into her bag and went with Dumbledore.

Together, they went to the Whomping Willow and Dumbledore used the Immobilus spell to stop the tree from hitting them. Together they went down the tunnel and towards the Shrieking Shack. She wondered what her father would look like after being gone for so long. The last time she saw him was in July on her birthday. Soon, they entered the Shrieking Shack.

"I shall return before sunset," said Dumbledore. "The champions will be announced later tonight."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

Eponine went up the steps and at the top of the steps was a large, shaggy black dog sitting there.

"Hello, Dad," she said.

She looked as the dog changed into Sirius Black. He didn't look too bad: he was wearing ragged grey robes; the same ones he had been wearing since he left Azkaban. His black hair was cleaner than before and he had shaved his face; a black mustache was above his lip. He was smiling and his grey eyes were shining with joy.

"Hello, my daughter," he said. "Did you bring any food?"

"Yes." She opened her bag and held out a bag of chicken that Dumbledore had given her.

"Thanks," he said, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself. But, don't worry, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray."

He grinned at her and Eponine returned her smile.

"You look much prettier than the last time I saw you," he said.

Eponine smiled. "Thank you." She paused. "We ought to get you a warmer coat, Dad. Winter will be here soon."

"Of course," he said. "So, how has classes been going?"

"Fine. I'm really enjoying it."

"Is that Snape bothering you at all?"

Eponine laughed. "No. Not at all." She paused.

"So, I read your letter about how you've developed telepathy at the Quiddtich World Cup."

She nodded. "Honestly, I hate it. All I hear all day is the noise of everyone's thoughts."

"Now that you mention it, your mother did say that she could hear everyone's thoughts…but the one's that bothered her the most were the ones that had pain in their lives…how she would see images of terrible things…"

"Mum was telepathic?"

"Of course. She developed some time…oh, I'd say about around your age, perhaps a year older."

"Did she ever learn to block it out?"

"I think so. I'm sure the library has books about such things. Perhaps Hermione could help you with that."

"Yea, I suppose." She paused. "I wanted to ask about Mum's past. Did you know anything about her family?"

"Not much," he said. "I do know her parents were murdered when she was five and she witnessed it while hiding in the closet and she was raised by her aunt. Your mother had terrible secrets that she wouldn't even share with me. She seemed very lonely and sad most of the time. The only time she would smile was when I was around or with her friend, Lily Evans. As I read your letter, things about the Dark Lady and her heirs…your mother never spoke of her family for as long as I knew her."

Eponine was disappointed.

"However, I think she might have some diaries. After she died, I moved some of her things to my house. I haven't looked at them because the thought of her was too painful. I'd bring them to you, but right now it's too dangerous. I need to stay hidden."

Eponine nodded.

The next few hours, Eponine told him about the Triwizard Tournament coming up and how excited she was to watch it with her friends. Soon, sunset was coming and she heard Dumbledore's footsteps coming up the stairs. He stood in the doorway and smiled.

"It's time to come back," he said.

Eponine nodded. "I'm coming," she said. She hugged her Dad and said goodbye. "I'll miss you."

"I'll see you soon, 'Ponine," he said. "Do be careful. And if you need me, don't hesitate to write."

"I will."

Soon, she went with Dumbledore, who gave Sirius a friendly nod. They went through the hole in the floor and through the tunnel and out the hole in the Whomping Willow.

"Did you enjoy your visit?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Good. Are you happy with this arrangement?"

"I guess," she said. "But, am I going to meet him in the Shrieking Shack all the time?"

"Well, not necessarily. Your father usually will tell me where he wants to meet you."

Soon, they returned to Hogwarts and Eponine changed her clothes to join her friends in the Great Hall to hear who were the Triwizard Champions. When she entered the candlelit Great Hall, it was almost full. She saw that Fred and George—clean-shaven again—seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"What did Dumbledore want?" asked Hermione.

"He wanted to talk to me about school and to see how I'm adjusting. What did I miss?"

"Well, Viktor Krum put his name in the Goblet of Fire and then Angelina Johnson did as well. They should be announcing the Champions soon."

Eponine could see that everyone was craning their necks with impatient expressions on their faces, the fidgeting, and the standing up to hear who had been selected as champions. Dumbledore stood in the middle of the room, next to the Goblet of Fire.

"Sit down, please," he said to everyone. "Now the moment you've been waiting for: the champion selection."

He turned towards the doors and gave a great sweeping wave with his hand; at once, all the flames on the candles and torches diminished, plunging the room into semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire, now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting…

Dumbledore approached the Goblet of Fire and soon the flames inside the goblet turned suddenly pink. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred of parchment fluttered out of it—the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue white.

"The Durmstrang champion," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "is Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Eponine saw Viktor Krum rise from the crowd with his classmates, who patted him on the shoulder, congratulated him in Bulgarian. Viktor Krum went towards Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared into the next chamber.

Soon, the clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned pink once more. A second piece of parchment shot out, propelled by the flames, which was blue.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

There was another sea of applause; the girls from Beauxbatons were cheering the loudest. Fleur stood up gracefully, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, approached Dumbledore and shook his hand. Then, he gestured her towards the door and she disappeared into the side chamber. Silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement that you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion was next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned pink once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore caught the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called. "Cedric Diggory!"

The uproar from the Hufflepuff table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions…"

Eponine watched as Mr. Crouch carried a covered item and placed it on a stool that the Sorting Hat would've been placed on.

"This vessel of victory…the Triwizard Cup!"

Soon, the sheet flew off and a beautiful trophy made of glass shone with silver dragons as handles spewing silvery fire.

Soon, the fire in the goblet had turned pink again. Sparks were flying out of it. Two long flames shot suddenly into the air and borne upon it were two pieces of parchment. Automatically it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and caught the parchments. He held them out and stared at the names written upon them. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slips in his hands, and everyone stared at Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter and Eponine Black."


	6. The Five Champions

Chapter Six

The Five Champions

Eponine sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at her and Harry. She was stunned and felt numb. Surely, she was dreaming…

There was no applause. Some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry and Eponine as they sat, frozen, in their seats. Every thought from both students and teachers began to buzz loudly in Eponine's brain, which sounded like a hive of angry bees.

"Harry Potter and Eponine Black?" Dumbledore called.

Eponine hoped the ground open up and swallow her up; sure, she got attention by her new appearance, but this was unnecessary.

"Harry Potter and Eponine Black!" he called, only this time his voice was louder.

"Go on," Hermione whispered. "For goodness sake." She gave them a slight push.

Eponine felt an invisible hand made her stand up. Her legs felt like jelly and her face turned redder and redder until it was on fire and her stomach felt like it was going to fall out. She walked with Harry; it felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and she could feel the hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon them, as though each were a searchlight. Together, they approached Dumbledore who stared at them; his blue eyes looked very grave. He handed them the parchments and they walked towards the door. Soon, people were shaking their heads and scowling; thoughts of outrage were buzzing in Eponine's brain that she couldn't even hear her own footsteps.

"They're cheats!" someone shouted in the crowd.

"They're not even 17 yet!" said another.

They walked passed Snape, who stared at them icily and McGonagall, who gave them a look of concern. More teachers stared at them and she could hear all their thoughts. She covered her ears to block out their thoughts, but they were still loud as ever.

(quiet quiet shut up)

Together, Harry and Eponine went through the door out of the Great Hall and they found themselves in a large room, filled with trophies and gadgets what whirled and whizzed. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace in front of them. They went into the room. Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum leaned against the mantelpiece; Cedric was sitting, staring at the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when the two of them walked in. She stared with wide eyes.

Eponine heard their thoughts; Fleur spoke French and Viktor spoke Bulgarian…and yet, she knew what they were saying…

(what are they doing here? They're not even old enough to compete)

Soon, there was arguing coming from the hall outside: Eponine both heard their audible and inaudible words. There were six voices arguing, but hearing both audible and inaudible sounded like twelve voices. The door opened behind them and the large group of professors and a Ministry official came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed by closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxine, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape and Professor Moody.

She heard Madame Maxine's ranting in French and Karkaroff in Bulgarian, which she was able to understand. Dumbledore approached the two of them. His eyes were burning with anger; they looked like the blue flames in the Goblet. Eponine had never, in all the years she had been at Hogwarts, seen Dumbledore so angry.

"Harry, 'Ponine," said Dumbledore. "Did either of you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"No, sir," they replied.

"Did either of you ask the older students to do it for you?"

"No, sir."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, sir."

After each reply, the trophies began to tremble.

"But of course they are lying!" said Madame Maxine.

"The hell they are!" said Moody. He stepped forward in the light. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could have hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of fourth year students."

"You seem to have given this a fair amount of thought, Mad-Eye," said Karkaroff coldly.

"It was once my job to think as Dark wizards do, Karkaroff," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "Perhaps you remember."

"This doesn't help, Alastor," said Dumbledore. Moody fell silent, thought still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction—Karkaroff's face was burning. He turned to Mr. Crouch, who strode to a corner, with a face of concern. "Leave this to you, Barty."

"The rules are absolute," he said. "The Goblet of Fire constitutes a magical binding contract." He turned towards Eponine and Harry. "Mr. Potter and Miss Black have no choice. They are, as of tonight, Triwizard Champions."

Everyone turned towards Eponine and Harry: Eponine wasn't sure what was worse: the furious stares or hearing all their angry thoughts, which buzzed like a hive of angry bees. Eponine wanted the noise to stop.

Together, they went towards the Gryffindor dormitory; as soon, they crawled through the portrait of the Fat Lady. The blast of noise that met their ears almost knocked them backwards. However, the audible noise wasn't the only thing that hit Eponine…but all the thoughts that bombarded her again.

"You should've told us you two entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed and half deeply impressed.

"How did you two do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"We didn't," said Harry. "We don't know how…"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell, another Gryffindor.

Nobody wanted to hear that neither of them put their names in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that neither of them was in the mood to celebrate. Eponine felt as though she was drowning from all the noise and the crowd…Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere and insisted on draping it around them like a banner. People were shoving butterbeer and food in front of Harry and Eponine, blocking off the staircases…everyone wanted to know how they had done it, how they had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get their names into the goblet…

"We didn't," they kept saying over and over again. "We don't know how it happened."

They might as well not have answered because nobody heard them. Eponine couldn't take the noise anymore and took off.

"'Ponine!" called Lee Jordan. "Where are you going?"

"To get away from all this noise!" she yelled. "I have a headache!"

She sprinted towards the girls' dormitory; she wanted nothing more than to turn off the noise, to bury her head under her pillow and block out all the thoughts that everybody was thinking that was constantly bombarding her brain. Soon, the girls in the dormitory began crowding around her, asking her how she did it.

"OK!" yelled Hermione, curtly and loudly. "Leave the girl alone! She needs quiet!"

The girls left. Hermione sat on the bed with Eponine, looking very concerned.

"Thanks," said Eponine, gratefully.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" she said.

She nodded. "If I don't do something about this, I'm going to lose my mind."

"I've been in the library all day, in hopes of looking for something that would help you with your telepathy." She handed her a large, old book called Mysteries of the Mind: Now you know and what to do.

"You do believe me, Hermione?" she asked.

"Of course," she replied. "I know you and Harry didn't put your names in the Goblet of Fire."

Eponine read her mind and could hear that her words were indeed sincere. As soon as it was bedtime, she lied down and tried to go to sleep, but she couldn't. Her head was throbbing from the noise she had heard today. She couldn't sleep…she got up and went down to the common room to look at her father's family photo albums, which continued to scowl at her. She could hear Harry and Ron arguing downstairs.

"I didn't ask for this to happen, OK? You're being stupid, Ron."

"Yea, that's me. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid friend."

"I didn't put my name in that cup. I don't want eternal glory. I just…" There was a pause. "Look, I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why. It just did. OK?"

There was a long silence. Soon, soft footsteps came down the stairs. Harry stopped at the foot of the stairs when he saw Eponine's head.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied, closing the photo album. "Everything alright? I heard you arguing with Ron."

"Not really," he said. "Mind if I join you?" She nodded and Harry sat down on the sofa. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep."

There was a long pause between the two friends. They stared at the fire for a moment and then at each other.

"You believe me, right?"

"Of course. I know you didn't put your name in the Goblet."

"You're not reading my mind, are you?"

"No," she said, honestly. "And you, do you believe me?"

"Of course."

"Face it, Harry. We're just doomed to be attention seekers. I mean, you defeated Voldemort when you were a baby and me, my father is an infamous prisoner who escaped from Azkaban and in just one day, I went from a servant to an heiress."

"I know. To be honest, I'm getting tired of this whole 'the boy who defeated You-Know-Who'."

"Same here with the whole thing about my dad."

The next few days, Eponine hoped everyone would accept the idea of her and Harry being champions, it turns out she was mistaken. Once she was back at lessons, it was clear that the rest of the school had all wild theories about how she got her name in the Goblet of Fire; because she was rich, either she or her father had bribed the Ministry of Magic in order to get her in. Everyone had turned remarkably cold towards her and her friends. One Herbology was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry and Eponine had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. Ron refused to talk to either of them. Hermione and Eponine tried to make a forced conversation, but though both answered them normally, but they avoided making eye contact with each other. She expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins—she had always been abused and humiliated by them for nine years as a servant that all she could do to avoid them was to run in the other direction, but that still didn't stop them from pelting her with paper wads and yelling insults at her. Eponine would take off running, gripping her books close to her chest and walk down the hall with her head down. Malfoy was the worst of all.

"Ah, look, everyone," he would sneer. "It's our champion, Cinder-soot. What do you think they'll have you do in the tournament? See how fast you can sweep a chimney?"

The Slytherins would be doubled-over with laughter

There were times when she hoped to get a few minutes of peace, she would shut herself up in the dormitory, hide herself under the covers with a pillow over her head to block out all the noise whenever Gryffindors came in.

The days got worse as they went by. She thought she could cope with the rest of the schools behavior, but it proved to be impossible. Double Potions was a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and his Slytherin clone army, all of whom seemed determined to punish Eponine and Harry for daring to become school champions, was about the most unpleasant thing one could imagine. Hermione continued to mumble under breath to ignore them.

When she and her friends arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. The message that all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY—THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them?" said Malfoy loudly as Eponine and Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do—look!"

She watched as his badge magically swirled, and the message upon it vanished to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

POTTER AND BLACK STINK!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. The message POTTER AND BLACK STINK was shining brightly around Eponine and Harry.

"Very funny, Malofy," Eponine said, sarcastically. "You're a brilliant farceur."

"Tell me, did Daddy dearest pay the Ministry to get you in or did the Ministry know your mum so well enough to bend the rules…I'm guessing that she was pretty good bedding them, since she was a slut."

"My mum was NOT a slut!" she screamed. Thousands of glass vials and cauldrons trembled intensely.

"Oh, dear," said Malfoy, mockingly. "I made the little slut baby mad."

"Stop calling me that!" she said between her gritted teeth. Then, she shoved Malfoy angrily; her blue eyes glittered.

"How dare you touch me, you filthy slut baby!" he pushed her back.

"What's all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice that was too familiar. Snape had arrived. He pointed a yellow finger at Malfoy and said,

"Explain."

"Black attacked me, sir…"

"He started it!" Eponine said, shaking with rage. "He insulted my mother and called me a slut baby."

"Let's see," he said in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention for Black. Dear, dear. How lucky you are that you aren't my servant anymore or I would've had your hide. Now, get inside or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

Eponine's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. She past Snape, walked to the back of the dungeon, and slammed her bag down onto the table. She sat next to Harry and Hermione while Ron sat with Dean and Seamus. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and flashed his badge, smirking. POTTER AND BLACK STINK flashed once more across the room.

Eponine sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him…using her powers to choke him…have him roll on the floor, screaming in pain…

"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…"

His eyes met Eponine's, and she knew what was coming next. If she could only read his mind, she would know…except she couldn't because somehow he managed to block out his thoughts, but her gut told him that he was going to poison her. Eponine imagined using her powers to dump her cauldron down on Snape's greasy head…see how he would like it…after years of beatings and humiliation…

And then, a knock on the dungeon door burst in on her thoughts. It was a Gryffindor student named Colin Creevy; he edged into the room, beaming, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape, curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and Eponine Black upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter and Black have another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "They will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir…sir, Mr. Crouch wants them," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go. I think they want to take photographs…"

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, Black, leave your things here, I want you two back down here later to test your antidotes."

"Please, sir—they've got to take their things with them," squeaked Colin. "All the champions…"

"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter, Black—take your bags and get out of my sight!"

The two of them swung their bags over their shoulders, got up and headed for the door. As they walked through the Slytherins desk, POTTER AND BLACK STINK flashed at them from every direction.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry, 'Ponine?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry closed the dungeon door behind them. "Isn't it, though? You two being champions."

"Yea," Eponine said heavily. "Really amazing."

"What do they want photos for, Colin?" asked Harry.

"The Daily Prophet, I think."

"Great," said Harry. "Just what we need. More publicity."

Eponine nodded in agreement.

"Good luck!" said Colin when they reached the room where they were the night they were selected champions. Two chairs were set in the middle of the room. Viktor was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Eponine had seen her so far; she kept throwing her head so that her long silvery blonde hair caught the light. There was a pauncy man, holding a large black camera.

Soon, Viktor approached her.

"Excuse me, you Miss Eponine, the girl I met on the first day of school?"

"Yes. That's right."

"Who is your friend I always see you with, the one always reading books?"

"Who, Hermione?"

"Is that her name? I must ask…well…"

Eponine read his thought about how much he wanted to talk to her because he liked her.

"Vere does she like to hang out?"

"She reads a lot so you'll find her in the library mostly."

"Oh."

"Do you like her?"

Viktor blushed slightly. "I guess."

"If you want to talk to her, then go up to her and talk to her. Don't be afraid. She's very nice."

"OK. I think I vill. Thank you. You're very nice girl."

Eponine smiled. "You're welcome."

"Alright, everyone, places," said the man with the camera. He had Cedric, Harry and Viktor stand behind Fleur and Eponine, who would sit in chairs.

Soon, a young woman entered the room dressed in green. Her blonde hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles that sat on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were sky blue. Her fingers had two-inch nails were black with jewels.

"What a charismatic quintet," she said. "Hello. I'm Rita Skeeter." She shook hands with the champions. "I write for the Daily Prophet. But of course, you know that, don't you? It's what you don't know. You're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? What mysteries do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick? "Me, Myself & I" want to know. Not to mention my rabid readers. So, who's feeling up to sharing?"

Nobody spoke.

"Should we start with the youngest ones? Hmm…how about we go in alphabetical order? Miss Black, you first."

In a second, her black-taloned fingers had Eponine's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering her out of the room and opening to a tiny little broom cupboard.

"This is cozy," said Rita.

"It's a broom cupboard," Eponine said.

"Come along, dear—that's right—lovely," she said, pushing her towards a small stool while Rita sat on the stairs. "You don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?"

"Um…no, not at all," she said, sitting down.

She watched as an acid green quill levitated magically along with a red notepad.

"So, tell me, Eponine," she began. "Here you sit, a girl of 12…"

"I'm 14," she corrected.

"About to compete against four students, three only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself and have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams. Concerned, are you?"

"Um…I don't know. I haven't thought about it." Her eyes wandered towards Quick-Quotes Quill; it whizzed across the parchment, back and forth as thought it were skating.

"Please. Just ignore the quill. Then, of course, you're no ordinary girl of 12…"

"Fourteen," she corrected, irritated.

"Your story is legend, especially about your father, Sirius Black, the prisoner who escaped from Azkaban." She paused. "Do you think it was that you inherited your father's rebellious behavior or the trauma of your past that made you enter such a dangerous tournament?"

"No, I didn't enter."

"Of course you didn't," she said, dismissively. "Everyone loves a rebel, 'Ponine, knowing that father of yours." She spoke to the quill. "Scratch that last." The quill obeyed. "Speaking of your parents, do you remember them at all?"

"Mostly, my father. There are some vague memories of my mother."

"How did you feel when you found out that you were the daughter of a former Death-Eater?"

"My father's not a Death-Eater!" she said, annoyed.

"If your parents were here now, do you think they would feel? Proud or concerned that your attitude shows, at best, your pathological need for attention?"

Eponine was feeling rather annoyed. She could feel Rita Skeeter watching her very intently. She avoided her gaze and looked at the words the quill had written:

Tears fill those startling grey-blue eyes as our conversation turns to her parents, whom she barely knew: her mother dead and her father a wanted criminal on the run…

"Hey! My eyes are not filled with tears!'" Eponine said.

Eponine sighed as she left the closet. She had just about enough of the whole interview with Rita Skeeter. She went to the Owlery and wrote to her Dad to tell him what had happened.

Dad,

You told me to write whenever I need you. Well, I really do need you. This is what's happening: I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night Harry and I got picked as champions. I don't know who put our names in the Goblet of Fire because we didn't. the other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

I hope to see you soon.

Eponine

Camille came fluttering down. Eponine handed her the letter and she flew away.

Eponine sighed, realizing she had detention tomorrow night with Snape. Great! She sat in the Common Room, reading Mysteries of the Mind about telepathy.

Telepathy is the ability to read or transfer images, thoughts, or feelings without using sensory perceptions. Thought telepathy is easily obtained through magic (see Legilimency spell in Advanced Spells), it is almost a rare gift among wizards and witches, particularly powerful and/or Dark wizards. Many document reports about wizards who inherited telepathy have said they have gone mad from hearing the constant noise invading their own thoughts.

There are ways of keeping telepathy in control by blocking out the thoughts with practice. Practice with a partner who is close to you. While your partner is sitting across from you, listen to his/her thoughts and attempt to block them out with your own mind.

Soon, a barn owl flew towards Eponine and dropped the parchment at her feet. She opened it and it was from Dad:

Eponine,

I couldn't risk sending Camille. Since the World Cup, Ministry's been intercepting more and more owls and she's too easily recognizable. We need to talk, face-to-face. Meet me in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry, 1:00 this Saturday night. (I have sent Harry instructions as well). And make sure the both of you are alone.

Dad

Eponine couldn't wait to see her Dad on Saturday night. The shock of finding herself school champion had worn off slightly and now the fear of what was facing her had started to sink in. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; she felt as though sit were crouching ahead of her like some horrific monster, barring her path. She had never suffered nerves like these; they were way beyond anything she experienced before the first day of school at Hogwarts. She was having a hard time thinking about the future; she felt her whole life had been leading up to, and would finish with, the first task…

Admittedly, she didn't see how her Dad was going to make her feel better about having to perform an unknown piece of difficult and dangerous magic in front of hundreds of people, but the mere sight of her father was always comforting.

In the meantime, Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of either Harry or Eponine. The names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (their names misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article of the article and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

The article read:

EPONINE BLACK: The Tale of a Death-Eater's Daughter

Eponine Amaryllis Jane Black, age 12, suspect entrant of the Triwizard Tournament. The girl is famously known because of her father, Sirius Black, a former Death-Eater who escaped from the heavily guarded wizard prison, Azkaban, last year. To this day, Sirius Black still remains a fugitive.

"I'm so ashamed of my father," the young champion. "When I found out who he was, I was so embarrassed to know that my father was a mad mass murderer and a former Death-Eater!"

Here, the young Black chokes up and those grey blue eyes that she inherited from her father fill with tears. When the young Black was asked why her father left her, she only shakes her head, refusing to answer. According to some sources, Black was very obsessed with his youth and rebellion that having a child would take away his freedom and he left her at Hogwarts.

Eponine's mother is a different story. Jane Amaryllis Hartigan was a student who went to school around the same year as Sirius Black. At the age of five, her parents, Amaryllis Jane and John Henry Hartigan, were murdered, leaving the girl orphaned and raised by her aunt, whose name is unknown at this time. It seems nobody seems to know the love story between Sirius and Jane. According to some sources, it is possible that he impregnated his school sweetheart, Jane Hartigan and left her upon hearing the news.

"I sometimes cry at night when I think of my mother," she says. "I'm not ashamed to admit it. I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament because she's watching over me. Also, I think I get my strength and rebellion from my father. He was a bit of a rebel in his youth. I think that is why I entered the tournament."

She crumpled up the paper, disgusted, unable to read anymore; she had never been so angry or humiliated. How dare she make up such lies about her parents and her!

"Did you see this?" said Harry, disgusted.

"Yea," she said acidly. "That…bitch!"

"Are you meeting your dad here tonight as well?" asked Harry.

"Yea," she said.

Soon, there heard a slight hissing noise coming from the fireplace.

"Did you hear that?" asked Harry.

She nodded and they approached the fireplace. Soon, in the flames of the burnt ash and logs appeared the face of Sirius Black.

"Sirius?" said Harry.

"Harry, Eponine," said Sirius. "I don't have much time, so let me get straight to it. Did either of you put your names in the Goblet of Fire?"

"NO!" they said together.

"Shhh!" Sirius hissed. "No doubt. I have to ask about these dreams of yours. I read both of your letters. Your dreams are exactly the same. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort. Who was the third man?"

"We don't know," Eponine replied.

"He didn't give a name?"

"No," they said.

"Voldemort said he was giving him a job to do," said Harry. "Something important."

"And what was that?"

"He wanted me…and Eponine," said Harry. "We don't know why, but he was going to use this man to get to us."

"And at the World Cup," Eponine added. "The night I first experienced telepathy, he called me 'the Dark Lady'," said Eponine.

"The Dark Lady?" said Harry. "Yes. I remember Voldemort mentioning the Dark Lady."

"It was just a dream, isn't it?" asked Eponine.

"Yes. It's just a dream," said Sirius. "With the Death-Eaters at the World Cup, your names rising from the Goblet…these aren't just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

"What are you saying?" asked Harry.

"I'm saying the devils are inside these walls. Igor Karkaroff? He was a Death-Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death-Eater. Then, there's Barty Crouch. Heart of stone. Sent his own son to Azkaban."

There was a sound at the top of the stairs. Eponine and Harry looked around to see if anyone was there; they didn't want anyone to know they were talking to Sirius.

"Do you think one of them put our names in the goblet?" asked Harry.

"I haven't a clue to who put your names in the goblet," said Sirius. "But whoever did is no friend to you. People die in this tournament."

"Dad, we're not ready for this," Eponine said.

"You don't have a choice," said Sirius.

Soon, there was a shadow at the top of the stairs.

"Someone's coming, Dad," Eponine said.

"Keep your friends close, you two," he said.

They scrambled to their feet, hiding the fire—if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar—the Ministry would get dragged in—the both of them would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts—Eponine would never see her father again and it would be the poorhouse this time.

There was a tiny pop in the fire behind them and they knew Sirius was gone. They watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling them how to get past a dragon?

It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry and Eponine across the room and looked around.

"Who were you two talking to?" asked Ron.

"What?" said Harry. "Who says we were talking to anyone?"

"I heard voices."

"Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time."

"You're probably just practicing for your next interviews, I expect," said Ron. He turned and went back to his room, sulking.

Eponine said nothing. She wanted nothing to do with this argument.


	7. The First Task

Chapter Seven

The First Task

Eponine couldn't wait to see her Dad on Saturday night. The shock of finding herself school champion had worn off slightly and now the fear of what was facing her had started to sink in. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; she felt as though sit were crouching ahead of her like some horrific monster, barring her path. She had never suffered nerves like these; they were way beyond anything she experienced before the first day of school at Hogwarts. She was having a hard time thinking about the future; she felt her whole life had been leading up to, and would finish with, the first task…

Admittedly, she didn't see how her Dad was going to make her feel better about having to perform an unknown piece of difficult and dangerous magic in front of hundreds of people, but the mere sight of her father was always comforting.

In the meantime, Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of either Harry or Eponine. The names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (their names misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article of the article and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

The article read:

_EPONINE BLACK: The Tale of a Death-Eater's Daughter_

_Eponine Amaryllis Jane Black, age 12, suspect entrant of the Triwizard Tournament. The girl is famously known because of her father, Sirius Black, a former Death-Eater who escaped from the heavily guarded wizard prison, Azkaban, last year. To this day, Sirius Black still remains a fugitive._

"_I'm so ashamed of my father," the young champion. "When I found out who he was, I was so embarrassed to know that my father was a mad mass murderer and a former Death-Eater!"_

_Here, the young Black chokes up and those grey blue eyes that she inherited from her father fill with tears. When the young Black was asked why her father left her, she only shakes her head, refusing to answer. According to some sources, Black was very obsessed with his youth and rebellion that having a child would take away his freedom and he left her at Hogwarts. _

_Eponine's mother is a different story. Jane Amaryllis Hartigan was a student who went to school around the same year as Sirius Black. At the age of five, her parents, Amaryllis Jane and John Henry Hartigan, were murdered, leaving the girl orphaned and raised by her aunt, whose name is unknown at this time. It seems nobody seems to know the love story between Sirius and Jane. According to some sources, it is possible that he impregnated his school sweetheart, Jane Hartigan and left her upon hearing the news._

"_I sometimes cry at night when I think of my mother," she says. "I'm not ashamed to admit it. I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament because she's watching over me. Also, I think I get my strength and rebellion from my father. He was a bit of a rebel in his youth. I think that is why I entered the tournament."_

She crumpled up the paper, disgusted, unable to read anymore; she had never been so angry or humiliated. How dare she make up such lies about her parents and her!

"Did you see this?" said Harry, disgusted.

"Yea," she said acidly. "That…bitch!"

"Are you meeting your dad here tonight as well?" asked Harry.

"Yea," she said.

Soon, there heard a slight hissing noise coming from the fireplace.

"Did you hear that?" asked Harry.

She nodded and they approached the fireplace. Soon, in the flames of the burnt ash and logs appeared the face of Sirius Black.

"Sirius?" said Harry.

"Harry, Eponine," said Sirius. "I don't have much time, so let me get straight to it. Did either of you put your names in the Goblet of Fire?"

"NO!" they said together.

"Shhh!" Sirius hissed. "No doubt. I have to ask about these dreams of yours. I read both of your letters. Your dreams are exactly the same. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort. Who was the third man?"

"We don't know," Eponine replied.

"He didn't give a name?"

"No," they said.

"Voldemort said he was giving him a job to do," said Harry. "Something important."

"And what was that?"

"He wanted me…and Eponine," said Harry. "We don't know why, but he was going to use this man to get to us."

"And at the World Cup," Eponine added. "The night I first experienced telepathy, he called me 'the Dark Lady'," said Eponine.

"The Dark Lady?" said Harry. "Yes. I remember Voldemort mentioning the Dark Lady."

"It was just a dream, isn't it?" asked Eponine.

"Yes. It's just a dream," said Sirius. "With the Death-Eaters at the World Cup, your names rising from the Goblet…these aren't just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

"What are you saying?" asked Harry.

"I'm saying the devils are inside these walls. Igor Karkaroff? He was a Death-Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death-Eater. Then, there's Barty Crouch. Heart of stone. Sent his own son to Azkaban."

There was a sound at the top of the stairs. Eponine and Harry looked around to see if anyone was there; they didn't want anyone to know they were talking to Sirius.

"Do you think one of them put our names in the goblet?" asked Harry.

"I haven't a clue to who put your names in the goblet," said Sirius. "But whoever did is no friend to you. People die in this tournament."

"Dad, we're not ready for this," Eponine said.

"You don't have a choice," said Sirius.

Soon, there was a shadow at the top of the stairs.

"Someone's coming, Dad," Eponine said.

"Keep your friends close, you two," he said.

They scrambled to their feet, hiding the fire—if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar—the Ministry would get dragged in—the both of them would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts—Eponine would never see her father again and it would be the poorhouse this time.

There was a tiny pop in the fire behind them and they knew Sirius was gone. They watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling them how to get past a dragon?

It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry and Eponine across the room and looked around.

"Who were you two talking to?" asked Ron.

"What?" said Harry. "Who says we were talking to anyone?"  
"I heard voices."

"Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time."

"You're probably just practicing for your next interviews, I expect," said Ron.

Eponine said nothing. She wanted nothing to do with this argument.

The next day, Eponine sat by the lake, reading _Mysteries of the Mind_. She would practice blocking out the telepathic noise. Neville Longbottom had his trousers rolled up to his knees, wading in the lake. She practiced on blocking out his thoughts.

"Amazing!" said Neville.

"Neville, you're doing it again," said Harry.

"Sorry," he said.

Harry looked at the book that was on the ground. He read it: _Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs. _

"Yea, Moody gave it to me when we had tea that day. What's that you're reading, 'Ponine?" asked Neville.

"_Mysteries of the Mind_," she replied, blocking out his thoughts.

"How come?"

"Saw it in the library. It looked interesting."

She heard Hermione and Ron's voices in the distance.

"Look," she said. "It's already been through enough people. Why don't you just go and talk to him yourself?" She sighed. "Ron, this is your problem, not mine. What do you want me to say to him?"

"Go," he whispered.

"Ronald would like me to tell you and Eponine that Seamus told him that Dean was told by Parvati that Hagrid is looking for you two."

"Is that right? Well…"

"Wait, what?" Eponine said.

"Errr…" Hermione said. "Wait." She went to Ron and whispered to him. Eponine read their minds.

(are you sure you won't do this)

(do it)

"Dean was told by Parvati that…" she sighed, exhausted. "Please don't make me say it again. Hagrid's looking for you."

"Well, you can tell Ronald…" said Harry.

"I'm NOT an owl!" Hermione snapped.

Later that night, Eponine and Harry went together under the Invisibility Cloak. They went out into the Forbidden Forest. Once Hagrid came into view, they revealed themselves from under the cloak.

"Come with me," he said. Then, he lead him towards the Dark Forest. "Did you bring your father's cloak like I asked, Harry?" asked Hagrid.

"Yea, I brought the cloak," said Harry.

"Hagrid, where are we going?" asked Eponine.

"You'll see soon enough. Now pay attention, it's important."

There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a ghastly orange flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in the buttonhole of his hairy suit. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he certainly had attempted to comb his hair—there were broken bits of comb teeth tangled in it.

"Hagrid, what's with the flower?" asked Eponine. "And have you combed your hair? And…" There was a rather strong smell lingering in the air. "What is that smell?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," said Hagrid. "And what I'm wearing is cologne, 'Ponine."

There were roars in the distance that made them stop. They looked around the Dark Forest, but there was nothing there.

"'Agrid," said a French voice in the distance.

Hagrid smiled; then stopped.

"The cloak!" he said to the two of them. "Put the cloak on!"

Harry unfolded the cloak and wrapped it around himself and Eponine and together, they followed him in the distance. They saw Madame Maxine in the bushes, waiting. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Bonsoir, Olympe," said Hagrid.

"Oh, 'Agrid," said Madame Maxine, fluttering her black eyelashes. "I thought perhaps you weren't coming. I thought perhaps you had forgotten about me."

Eponine and Harry rolled their eyes together.

"I couldn't forget about you, Olympe," said Hagrid.

"What is it you wanted to show me? When we spoke earlier, you sounded so exhilarated."

"You'll be glad you came. Trust me."

Hagrid led Madame Maxine around a clump of trees and soon came to a halt and pulled a bush branch down. Soon, there were was a deafening, earsplitting roar…for a split second, they thought they were seeing bonfires, and men darting around covered wood boxes.

"Oh! _C'est manifique_!" said Madame Maxine.

Eponine and Harry's eyes went round and their mouths dropped open. Five, fully grown, vicious looking dragons were roaring and snorting—torrents of fire were shooting into the woods from their open, fanged mouths. There was a silvery blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might in its cage; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting a mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; a gigantic brown one, more lizard like than the others which was nearest to them with long, bronze colored spikes protruding along every few inches on the tail; and the last one was black with spiny wings, a long snout with wide nostrils, stubby horns and bulging orange eyes and a spiny back.

"Can we get closer?" asked Madame Maxine. She moved slightly closer.

"Dragons!" Eponine and Harry whispered.

"That's the first task?" said Harry. "You're joking."

"Come on, you two," said Hagrid. "They're seriously misunderstood creatures." Soon, a dragon spewed a fireball in their direction. "Although, I will have to admit, that Horntail there is a nasty piece of work. Poor Ron nearly fainted just seeing him, you know."

"Ron was here?" said Harry.

"Oh, sure. His brother, Charlie, helped him bring them over from Romania. Didn't Ron tell you that?"

"No, he didn't. He didn't tell me a thing," said Harry, sounding very livid.

The next day, everybody had badges that said _POTTER AND BLACK STINK_ and were flashing the badges at Harry and Eponine. Some even waved their hands in front of their noses or pinched their noses as they walked by.

"You cheat, Black and Potter!"

"You stink, Potter and Black!"

"Potter and Black stink!"

"Good luck, Potter and Black!" someone said sarcastically.

Soon, a group of Hufflepuffs were blocking their path.

"Excuse us," said Harry.  
They continued to block; suddenly there was a powerful force that seemed to force them apart and they fell over, confused. She spotted Cedric and she looked at Harry.

"I'll tell him," he said.

"OK. See you later."

Eponine took off across the courtyard in hopes to get away from everybody.

"There's Cinder-soot, the cheat," said a Slytherin.

"Did you see today's _Daily Prophet_, Cinder-soot?" said Malfoy.

"I've seen it already. I don't need you to rub it in." Eponine replied, irritated.

"Poor little Miss Cinder-soot. Do you want a hanky in case you start crying about your dead slut mum and your filthy, criminal father, slut baby?"

Eponine could feel the fire burning inside her, but she had to keep it under control. Keep the power inside. Don't let it control you.

"Why so tense? My father and I have this bet, you see. I don't think you're going to last 10 minutes in the tournament." He jumped down from the tree. "He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five."

Eponine had enough. She stormed towards Malfoy with fire in her blue eyes. She shoved him against the tree.

"I don't give a damn what your father thinks," she said. "He's vile and cruel. And you are pathetic. In fact, I know a secret that nobody knows and it involves you."

"Oh please! You're bluffing!" he scoffed.

"Oh, no. In fact, this secret has to do with the fact that you and I share something in common."

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"I'll give you a hint: I'm thicker than water, flicker red and warm like a flame, but I'm not fire."

Malfoy stared dumbfounded; even Crabbe and Goyle scratched their heads and looked confused. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just use your common sense. It's a riddle."

Malfoy just stared, stupidly.

"It's blood, you idiot!" Eponine said annoyed. "We share the same blood."

"How do we share…" then, he stopped mid-sentenced; his face fell in horror and stared face to face with his enemy and realized that he was looking into the blue-gray eyes, blonde hair and facial features that he had failed to see all along.

"That's right," said Eponine. "I'm your own flesh and blood…_cousin_."

All the Slytherins stared in horror, unable to speak.

"It's lies, all lies!" said Malfoy, stammering.

"Oh, no? Perhaps you need to learn more about your family tree. You see, your mother and my father are cousins, therefore, we're from the same family. Humiliating, isn't it? Learning that all this time you were tormenting your own flesh and blood."  
"You…you…" he stammered. "How dare you humiliate me!" He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Eponine.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, SONNY!" said roared a voice. Moody had showed up out of nowhere in the courtyard. He waved his wand and there was a blur of white and at Eponine's feet was a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. "I'll teach you to curse someone when their back is turned!" Soon, the shrieking ferret was bouncing up and down in the air. "You stinking, cowardly, scummy…" he bounced the ferret after each word…Eponine laughed.

"Professor Moody!" shouted the shocked voice of Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air. "What…what are you doing?"

"Teaching," he replied calmly, still bouncing the ferret.

"Is that…is that a student?" she shrieked, pointing at the ferret.

"Technically, it's a ferret." The ferret was soon shoved down Goyle's pants and Eponine was slapping her knees and tears were streaming down her eyes as she laughed. Moody turned towards her and winked at her with his normal eye.

McGonagall took her wand out and there was a loud, snapping noise and soon, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet and looked terrified.

"My father will hear about this!"

"Is that a threat?" Moody growled. He chased after Malfoy around the tree.  
"PROFESSOR MOODY!" McGonagall yelled.

Malfoy ran away from Moody, shoving past Eponine and Harry.

"I could tell stories about your father that would curl even your greasy hair!" yelled Moody.

"I'll get you for humiliating me, Black! I don't care if we are from the same family! I'll get you!"

"YOU LAY A HAND ON HER, I'LL GET YOU!" shouted Moody.

"ALASTOR! ALASTOR!" yelled McGonagall.

"It doesn't end here!" he continued to yell.

"Alastor, we _NEVER_ use transfiguration as punishment!" said McGonagall angrily. "Surely Dumbledore told you this?"

"He might've mentioned it."

"Well, you'll do well to remember it."

Moody made a frog face at McGonagall as soon as her back was turned. "You, Potter, Black. Come with me."

Eponine and Harry followed Moody into his office, which had a number of exceptionally odd objects that she had never seen before. On his desk stood what looked like a large, cracked glass spinning top. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial, which made a humming noise. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite of the two of them on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Eponine watched as Moody took off his prosthetic leg and placed it in front of the mirror.

"That's a Foe-Glass," he said. "Let's me keep an eye on my enemies. If I can see the whites of their eyes, they're right behind me." He let out a short, harsh laugh.

Soon, there were terrible screams that came from a corner. There was a large trunk that had several keyholes. It rattled with the screams.

"Wouldn't bother telling you what's in there," he said. "You wouldn't believe it if I did." Eponine saw Moody flick his tongue slightly. Then, he took a swig from his hip flask. "Now," he said. "What are you two going to do about your dragons?"

The two of them hesitated. They had been afraid of this. They stammered stupidly, looking at one another. Moody invited them to sit, gesturing to two chairs to his right. They sat down together.

"Listen to me, you two," he said. "Diggory, by your ages, he could turn a whistle into a watch and have it sing you the time. Miss Delacour, she's as much a fairy princess than I. As for Krum, his head may be filled with sawdust, but Karkaroff is not. They'll have a strategy. And you can bet that it will play to Krum's strengths."

Eponine and Harry looked right into Moody's eyes…though she wasn't sure whether to look in the normal one or the magical blue one.

"Come on, you two," he said. "What are your strengths?"

"Well, I don't know. I can fly. I'm a fair flyer, but…"

"Better than fair, the way I heard it. And you, 'Ponine, from what I saw, how you smashed that window…"

"You know about my powers?" she said, blushing.

"Of course. I knew it was you. The way your face flushed slightly when it happened, I knew it was you."

There was a long silence between the three of them.

"But I'm not allow not broom."

"And I don't want to use my powers. But I'm good at charms, sir."

"Quite excellent from what I heard, 'Ponine. And who knows? Perhaps your powers will come in handy…you never know. It's something to keep in mind."

Harry and Eponine both practiced for the First Task. Eponine spent her nights in the library reading up on dragons: all the kinds, their anatomy, etc; she worked on a fire-shield charm and the Conjunctivitis Curse (since the eyes were a weak point in dragons) with Hermione. Harry worked on a Summoning Charm, since he was planning to use his broom in the tournament.

On the morning of the tournament, Eponine woke early and put on her uniform. She woke Harry up as well and together they went down to the Great Hall and had breakfast. Together, she and Harry went down to the Quidditch field, dressed in their uniforms. They went into a little tent where the rest of the champions were. Outside, they heard Dumbledore's voice in the stands:

"Your attention please. This is a great day for all of us…."

His speech was interrupted by a dragon's roar. Eponine jumped slightly. The benches were trembling slightly.

(no no no NO!)

The trembling stopped.

"Each of the three tasks involves very considerable danger. Please keep in your seats at all times. This will minimize the risks you may be exposed to."

"Psst," said a voice from behind the tent flap. Harry and Eponine went towards the tent flap. "Harry, 'Ponine, is that you?" It was Hermione.  
"Yea," they said.

"How are you feeling? OK?"

They said nothing.

"The key is to concentrate. After that, you just have to…"

"Battle a dragon," said Harry.

Hermione jumped out from behind the curtain flap and hugged Harry. Suddenly there was a flash that blinded all three of them.

"What's this?" said the horrible voice of Rita Skeeter. "A love triangle! How stirring! The young Black heiress is currently dating the famous Harry Potter. Black's best friend, Hermione Granger, has also fallen for him as well. See those grey eyes of the young heiress burn with jealousy as she looks on…"

"We're not dating!" said Eponine, annoyed. Several goblets trembled.

"Very well," she said. "If everything goes unfortunately today, you three may make the front page."

"You have no business here," said the thick Bulgarian voice of Krum. "This tent is for champions and friends."

Rita Skeeter smiled and shrugged. "No matter. We've got what we wanted." Together, she and the photographer left the tent.

Dumbledore came in, followed by Crouch, Madame Maxine, Karkaroff, and Filch.

"Good day, champions," said Dumbledore. "Gather round. Now, you've waited, you've wondered, and at last the moment has arrived. A moment only the five of you can appreciate." He looked at Hermione. "What are you doing here, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, Sorry. I'll just go." She turned towards the tent and left.

"Barty, the bag," he said.

Mr. Crouch stepped forward and held a large, velvet bag that seemed to move. "Champions, in a circle, around me," he said. The five of them gathered in a circled. "Miss Delacour, over here. Mr. Krum. Potter, over here. And Miss Black, here next to Mr. Cedric." He brought the bag towards Fleur. "Now, Fleur, if you will."

She reached into the bag and there was a puff of smoke and growling and snarling coming from the bag. She winced slightly and pulled out a tiny green dragon that moved like a real dragon.

"The Welsh Green," he said.

He went towards Krum and he reached into the bag and pulled out a scarlet dragon. "The Chinese Fireball. Oooh!"

Then, he went towards Cedric and he reached in and pulled out a blue-grey dragon. "The Swedish Short-Snout."

He went to Eponine. Eponine swallowed slightly and reached in. There was a slight bite on her finger and she murmured 'ow' quietly and pulled out a black dragon.

"The Norwegian Ridgeback."

Soon, it was Harry's turn. "The Hungarian Horntail." To the champions, he said. "These represent four very real dragons, each which have been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple: collect the egg. This you must do, for each egg contains a clue without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions?"

Nobody spoke.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Good luck, champions." He turned towards Cedric. "Mr. Diggory, at the sound of the cannon, you may…"

Filch lit the cannon and it went off, cutting off Dumbledore mid-sentence. There were loud noisy cheers and Cedric went out into the stadium, the tent flap closing behind him. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant that Cedric was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model…

It was worse than either of them imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed…yelled…gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. Dumbledore's commentary made everything much, much worse…horrible pictures formed in Eponine's mind when she heard: "ooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"…"He's taking risks, this one!"… "_Clever_ move, but pity that didn't work!"

After fifteen minutes, Eponine could hear the deafening roar that could mean one thing: Cedric had gotten the egg.

"Very good indeed!" Dumbledore shouted. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But he didn't shout the marks; Eponine supposed that the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, four to go!" Crouch said.

Soon, Fleur went to the tent flap, trembling from head to foot, knowing it was her turn. She held her head high and her hand clutched her wand. Krum, Harry, and Eponine were left alone at opposites sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again… "Oh, I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Dumbledore shouting. "Oh…nearly! Careful now…Good Lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, the crowd erupted into applause once more…Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown…more clapping…then, Krum stood up, bravely and walked towards the tent.

"Very daring!" Dumbledore shouted. Harry and Eponine heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing—and—yes! He's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished—it was now Harry's turn. Eponine was the last to be remaining in the tent. Eponine was scared to face a dragon. While Harry was battling his dragon, she lied on the cot and soon, the cot began to levitate. She began to hear the voice: a high-pitched female voice invaded her mind, whispering in a strange ancient language. Then, an image of a female figure engulfed in fire that walked towards her from the darkness, her eyes were white and lidless, her hair flew like flames. Soon, it spoke to her in English:

(fire flows in our veins we are born from it and we will rise from it)

(shut up!)

"Well done! Well done! Very daring!" shouted Dumbledore. There was a pause and that meant that Harry was getting his scores.

"Four of our champions have now faced their dragons and so each of them will proceed to the next task. Next, our fifth and final champion."

Eponine forced herself to stand; her legs felt like jelly. All the goblets as well as the tables holding them began to tremble. Her sweaty hand reached for her wand and she walked into the stadium and there was a mountain of rock as if she were stepping into the territory of a dragon. The stadium was bursting with applause and cheers and everyone was chanting her name from the Hogwarts School. Soon, there was a silence that was long and frightening. The dragon was nowhere in sight. The small pebbles on the ground trembled as she walked and her hands shook. She spotted the egg in the middle and she began to walk towards the egg when suddenly there was a roar and a tail smashed towards Eponine. She made a dive and screamed; bits of rock spewed from the striking point and she was face-to-face with the orange eyes of the Norwegian Ridgeback. It blew a ball of fire towards her and Eponine dodged it. The dragon was chained up and her great black wings flapped, roaring furiously. The dragon soon crouched low over the egg, her wings half-furled, her evil eyes upon her, and its jaws opened, showing fangs.

Soon, it spewed a ball of fire spewed from its mouth. Eponine threw up her hands and soon there was a huge wall of wall of fire being held off by the thin telekinetic film; she could feel the energy burining. Her hair fell loose from her hairclip and her hair stirred languidly like the flames of fire and her eyes turned fiery orange. The heat was incredible and her mind was pulsing powerfully. Everyone stared in wonder and horror as she amazingly held the fire back. Soon, the dragon stopped spewing and Eponine's eyes remained the color of fire and her hair flickered like flame; liquid fire burned in her blood. Her skin was like the corona of a star boiling off excess plasma.

(stay away from my egg thieving human)

It was speaking to her! In Draconic, the language of the Dragons. Of course, Eponine had remembered what Moody had said.

(it's always good to keep in mind)

Well, she was sure it was pointless to reason with the dragon. She had read that dragons were extremely unreasonable and stubborn. They would not listen to anything except to their instincts. She spoke to it telepathically in its language.

(relax relax hear my voice my soothing voice)

Suddenly the dragon was shaking her head, looking very confused…she grunted as she heard Eponine's voice. It was speaking in its language. How did it know? Humans were stupid…apparently, this human was not stupid. She kept grunting at the sound of Eponine's voice. It was so calming, soothing…though dragons were supposed to be immune to mostly magic, but this was too powerful to resist. That voice was so beautiful and soothing like the song of a bird: beautiful like a nightingale and eerie like a phoenix.

"_CONJUNCTIVUS!"_ she shouted with all the force, her wand aimed for the dragon's eye.

It roared in pain and pawed its eyes, scratching them and making it worse. Fire spewed everywhere and it was running all over the place, the chain yanked whenever it got too far from where it was chained. Eponine was nearly stepped on at one point and she rolled towards the egg, grabbed it as quickly as she could without getting trampled on and ran.

There were cheers in the crowd as she ran towards the tent, clutching the egg under her arm. She smiled triumphantly and her brain throbbed as her eyes returned to grey blue like her father and she blinked a couple of times.

Soon, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid came in to meet her, their smiles evident even from the distance.

"Excellent, Black!" she said. She saw that there were minor burns and scratches on her. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey about those. Over there…she's had to mop up Diggory and Potter already…"

"Yeh did it, 'Ponine!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh didt it! And against the Ridgeback and all! Yer father would be mighty proud of yeh!"

"Thanks, Hagrid," she said.

Professor Moody also looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.

"Nicely done, 'Ponine," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she replied.

"Right then, Black, the first aid tent please…" said Professor McGonagall.

Eponine walked towards the first aid tent, still panting, her mind was pounding and her brain was throbbing, exhausted from all the energy she had used to hold that fireball back. Madam Pomfrey fussed over her. She looked at her hands, which were undamaged.  
"How lucky you are, Miss Black," she said. "You could've been killed by that fire! Lord knows how you survived without getting burns on your hands."

Eponine only smiled.


	8. The Yule Ball

Chapter Eight

The Yule Ball

Sure enough when Harry and Eponine entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface. Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was thick with sparks and stars and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some banners of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt and Eponine holding back the Norwegian Ridgeback's huge fireball and her hair blowing in the wind.

"Go on, Harry and 'Ponine!" said Seamus excitedly. "Open it up. What's the clue?"

"Who wants us to open it?" Harry yelled.

"YES!" everybody yelled.

"Do you want us to open it?" Eponine added.

"YES!"

Together they turned the knob and it opened into three halves; it was hollow with a sparkly inside and empty—but the moment they had opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. Since both were opened, the noise was twice as loud and several windows broke. Everybody, even the portraits, were screaming in agony from the noise, covering their ears.

"SHUT IT!" yelled Fred.

Eponine and Harry gladly slammed the eggs shut and the noise stopped.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" said Ron.

There was a long uncomfortable silence until Fred said, "Alright everyone, go back to your knitting. This is going to be uncomfortable without all you nosy sods hanging around."

Ron approached Harry and Eponine, his head was slightly downward.

"I reckon you have to be barking mad to put your own names in the Goblet of Fire," he said, softly.

"Caught on, have you?" said Eponine.

"I wasn't the only one who thought you'd done it. Everyone was saying behind your backs."

"Brilliant," said Harry. "That makes us feel loads better."

"At least I warned you about the dragons."

"No, Hagrid warned us," Eponine said, looking confused.

"No, no! I did! Don't you remember? I told Hermione to tell you two that Seamus told Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for you. Seamus actually never told me anything, so it was really me all along. I thought we'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out."

"Who…who could possibly figure that out?" said Harry. "That's completely mental."

"Yea, it is. I suppose I was a bit distraught."

"Boys," said Hermione, so happy and so relieved that Ron was talking to them again.

XXX

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Though the castle was always drafty in the winter, Eponine was glad of its fires, warm, clean sheets and thick clothes. For she had never felt so warm in years that being cold seemed nothing but a distant memory. She would always climb into bed with a smile on her face.

At breakfast the day after the First Task, Eponine sat with her friends, reading her father's letter:

_Dear Eponine, _

_Congratulations on your success with the Ridgeback. Whoever put your name in that Goblet of Fire shouldn't be feeling too happy right now. _

_I am very proud of you and if your mother was here, I'm sure she would be smiling down upon you. However, don't get complacent. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open—particularly when the person we discussed is around—and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble. _

_Please keep in touch. I want to hear about anything unusual. I will see you this weekend. _

_Love your father_

Eponine smiled. She tucked the letter into her robes.

"Look at this!" Hermione said. "I can't believe it! She's done it again!" She threw the _Daily Prophet_ on the table. She read:

_Miss Granger, a plain, but ambitious girl seems to be developing a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey, sources report, is none other than the Bulgarian bonbon, Viktor Krum. No word yet about how Harry Potter is taking this latest emotional blow. _

_In other news, the Bulgarian bonbon was spotted outside the tent, flirting with Eponine Black, the Triwizard Champion. Could it be that the young Black is following in her mother's footsteps? Sources say that Black's mother, Jane Hartigan, was known to be flirtatious her youth. _

"Oh my GOD!" Eponine said, exasperated. "We were only talking!"

"What were you doing talking to Krum anyway?" asked Hermione.

"Well…erm…he was asking me about you?"

"Me? Why?"

"I guess he sort of fancies you."

"Well, that explains why he's been hanging around the library all the time."

Soon, Nigel, a blond haired Gryffindor boy, approached the four of them with two packages: one very large, wrapped with crumpled brown paper and the other was very small, wrapped in silver.

"Parcel for you, Mr. Weasley," said Nigel, handing him the large package. "And for you, Miss Black," he handed her the small one.

"Look, Mum, sent me something," said Ron. He opened the package and inside was what looked like a long, moldy velvety dress with lace on the collar and cuffs.

"Mum sent me a dress," Ron said.

There were giggles amongst the Gryffindor table. Eponine nearly choked on her toast, trying to hold back her laughter.

"It does match your eyes," said Harry. "Is there a bonnet?" He looked through the contents of the box and found a very moldy looking lace frill with a black bowtie and buttons. "Ah, here it is!"

"Nose down, Harry!" He walked towards Ginny. "Ginny, these must be for you."

Ginny wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm not wearing that. It's ghastly."

Hermione and Eponine started to giggle.

"What are you on about?" Ron said cluelessly.

"They're not for Ginny," said Hermione. "They're for you." The entire Gryffindor table burst into laughter. "Dress robes."

"Dress robes? For what?"

"The ball that's coming up," Eponine said.

"How do you know?"

"Well, I _can_ read minds."

She began to open her package and realized this had to be a gift from her father. Just when she was about to say 'I wish Dad wouldn't spend so much money buying me gifts', she found a note that was written in her Dad's handwriting:

_These belonged to your mother. I think it is time they were passed down to you. And they might go with your dress. –Dad_

Eponine unwrapped the box and found a velvet box, which contained a pair of teardrop blue-grey pearl earrings the size of robin's eggs.

"Ooooh!" chirped Ginny. "They're so pretty! Where did you get those?"

"They're my mother's," she replied.

"I guess your Dad must've really loved your mother to give her these," said Hermione.

Eponine smiled. She pictured her mother, wearing the dress and her earrings, smiling and laughing.

XXX

The students went to Professor McGonagall's classroom.

"The Yule Ball," began Professor McGonagall, "has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve, we and our guests, gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally because, the Yule Ball, is first and foremost, a dance."

Girls giggled and whispered excitedly while the boys groaned.

"Silence!" said McGonagall. The room went quiet. "The House of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly 10 centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons." ("Try saying that five times fast," Fred was heard to whisper to George).

"Now, to dance," continued McGonagall. "One must let the body breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight. Inside every boy is a lordly lion prepared to prance." She turned towards Harry. "Potter, come forth. And…Black, you as well."

"Me?" she said, turning red.

"Yes."

Eponine felt her stomach sink lower into her, her cheeks burned scarlet, and her heart fluttered.

"Now, Potter, place your right hand on Miss Black's waist."

"Where?" Harry said stupidly.

"Her waist." She placed Harry's hand on her waist, which made Eponine tremble slightly and Harry blushed as well.

"Now, Black, place your hand on Potter's shoulder."

Eponine did so. She could feel the hard muscle in Harry's shoulder from all that Quidditch practice perhaps. Still, she felt uncomfortable since this was her best friend and she had never done anything so intimate like dancing with Harry. She admired him, not because he defeated Lord Voldemort, but because he was kind, brave, loyal and a good friend.

"Mr. Filch, if you would," said McGonagall. Filch started the music. "And one, two, three. One, two, three."

McGonagall's counting faded in Eponine's mind as she looked into Harry's eyes, never realizing how green they were.

Harry stared at Eponine as well. He felt her hourglass shaped waist in his right hand and her hand in his left: her calloused fingers were starting to smooth out and there was muscle in the wrist from hard labor. He didn't realize how grey-blue her eyes were, how pearly and flawless her skin, and how gold her hair was. She was very pretty, but he couldn't tell her that because they were friends.

Eponine smiled a little, knowing what Harry was thinking.

Soon, all the boys and girls were asked to stand up and dance; all the girls leapt out of their seats, excited while the boys slouched in their chairs, hiding themselves under their hands, embarrassed. Only Neville had the nerve to stand up and dance.

Once the bell rang, everyone was so relieved to get out of there. Eponine held her books tightly to her chest, unable to look at Harry.

"Well, that was…awkward," Eponine said, blushing.

"Yea," Harry agreed.

XXXX

A week ago, everyone was supposed to find a partner for the Yule Ball. The boys had a hard time going up to the girls asking them to the ball. Girls were giggling and whispering in the corridor, shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night. Many boys came up to Eponine and opened their mouths to speak, but all that came out was a high-pitched squeak and they ran away. Eponine couldn't help but giggle.

"'Ponine, you're a girl, right?" said Ron.

"You've only just noticed?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Why do they have to travel in packs?" Harry asked as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry. "And how are you supposed to get on their own to ask them?"

"Yea, why do they do that?" asked Ron.

"I guess it's the excitement, the anticipation about being asked, I guess," Eponine replied. "Besides, what are you afraid of? The worst they can say is no."

They approached a group of Ravenclaws, who stared at them, waiting for the boys to ask them. They opened their mouths, then took off. The girls giggled.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron. "You've slayed dragons. If you can't get a date, who can?"

"I think I'd take the dragon right now."

They approached some Beauxbatons girls, who completely snubbed them, turning in the other direction.

On the whole, Eponine had to admit that life had definitely improved since she had gotten through the first task; she wasn't attracting as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, there seemed to be fewer _Suport Cedric Diggory_ badges, and Malfoy was avoiding her ever since he found out they were cousins.

XXXX

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors of the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Eponine didn't believe any of them—for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Eponine didn't know who the Weird Sisters were, but heard that they were a famous musical group.

Midterms came. Everyone was sitting in the Great Hall, quills scratching on paper. Eponine and her friends sat together. Ron was looking at girls to see who he would ask to the Yule Ball.

"This is mad!" whispered Ron, looking around. "At this rate, we'll be the only ones without dates."

Snape walked by and shoved Ron's head forward. Ron rubbed his head, moaning.

"Well, us and Neville," Ron said.

"Yea, but then again, he can take himself," said Harry, sniggering.

"It might interest you, but Neville's already got someone," whispered Hermione.

"Oh, now I'm really depressed," Ron moaned.

Fred passed Ron a note, which read _Get a move or all the good ones have gone._

"Who are you going with, then?"

Fred threw a piece of paper at Angelina.

"Oi, Angelina. Will you go to the ball with me?" Fred whispered.

She smiled and nodded.

"And you, George?" asked Ron.

George threw a paper wad at Eponine. "'Ponine, you want to go to the ball with me?"

Eponine smiled, blushing. "Yea. Sure."

George had a winning smile on his face. Ron moaned in disappointment. He turned to Hermione.

"Oi, Hermione, you're a girl, right?"

"Very well spotted," she said, acidly.

"Come with one of us?" said Ron, desperately.

Soon, Harry and Ron were slapped on the back of the head with a book by Snape, which made loud thumping noise that echoed through the Great Hall. Eponine bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.

"Come on. It's one thing if a bloke to show up alone," said Ron. "For a girl, it's just sad."

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not, someone has already asked me!" Hermione said, angrily and blushing. She stood up and handed her journal to Snape and returned to the table and gathered her bag. "And I said yes!"

"Bloody hell," whispered Ron. He turned to Eponine. "She's lying, right, 'Ponine?"

"No, she's not," she said, quietly.

"Who asked her?"

"She didn't say anything to me. I asked her if she got a date to the ball and all she said was yes."

Ron turned to Harry. "Look, we've just got to grit our teeth and do it. Tonight, when we get back to the common room, we'll both have partners. Agreed?"

Snape shoved Harry and Ron's heads down. They groaned in pain.

"Blimey, 'Ponine," said Ron. "Now I know how you felt…"

XXXX

Eponine sat on the sofa, reading _Mysteries of the Mind,_ blocking out Harry's thoughts. She heard chattering and mumbling coming from the entrance of the common room.

"It's alright, Ron."

A rather ashen-faced Ron was being led into the common room, accompanied by Ginny and

"What happened?" asked Eponine.

"Why did I do it?" he said, stupidly. "I don't know what made me do it!"

"He just asked Fleur Delacour to the dance," said Ginny. She looked like she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

"What?" said Hermione.

"What did she say?" asked Harry.

Ron didn't say anything.

"No, of course," said Hermione.

Ron shook his head.

"She said yes?" said Eponine.

"Don't be silly," Ron mumbled. "There she was, walking by. You know how I like it when they walk. I couldn't help it. It just sort of slipped out."

"Actually, he was screaming at her. It was sort of frightening," said Ginny.

"So what did you do then?" asked Harry.

"What else? I ran for it," said Ron. "I'm not cut out for this Harry, I don't know what's gotten into me. I always liked looking at them from behind…I mean, the first time I saw you, 'Ponine', without all those rags…and all clean…you have a really nice bottom…"

Eponine blushed. "Well, remind me to not let you walk behind me and to keep my back against the wall."

XXXX

Christmas Eve came quickly. Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin. The Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost.

Eponine stood in the dormitory, laying out her mother's dress and earrings on her bed. She found a pair of slippers among the dress; grey silk with blue and crystal beads sewn on and a two-inch glass heel with beads embedded in the heel. She slid the dress over her head, standing in front of the mirror. It fit perfectly! With a few clever spells, the stays of the dress laced themselves, gasping slightly when they got tight, making her waist tiny and her bosom lifted. She blushed, embarrassed.

Next, Eponine put on shimmering eye shadow and some mascara, next her mother's earrings and using another spell to do her hair, which braided itself and wrapped around her head and left the rest hanging down her back, using another spell to curl it slightly. Lastly she stepped into the slippers. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw how lovely she looked and smiled, feeling confident.

She could hear music coming from downstairs. The ball was going to begin in a few minutes. She walked down the staircases, her glass slippers clinking noises every step she took that sounded like a tiny silver bell. Her heart pounded and her cheeks flushed, worried that she would fall.

Once she reached the Great Hall entrance, it was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would open; boys dressed in dress robes with their hair slick and neat and girls dressed in silk, satin and chiffon, their hair curled or braided, and wearing jewelry and makeup. Eponine stood at the top of the stairs; everyone stared at her, full of awe. Eponine made a small smile and went down the steps, heels clinking, hands shaking and heart pounding. She found her way towards Ron and Harry. Ron was dressed in his lacy, frilly maroon dress robes with a look of embarrassment and Harry was dressed in a black with white shirt and a white bow tie. They were about to speak, but words failed them.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," they said stupidly.

"Have you seen Hermione?" asked Ron.

"No."

"Poor kid, she's probably all alone in her room, crying her eyes out."

"She wasn't even in her room when I left."

"Well, why do you think she wouldn't tell us who she's coming with?"

"Dunno."

"I'm telling you, nobody asked her. Would've taken her myself if she wasn't so bloody proud."

Soon, the Patil twins approached Harry and Ron. Both of them were dressed in pink and orange dresses, wrapped in saris, their arms decorated with gold bangles and their foreheads had a bindi.

"Hello boys," said the two of them simultaneously.

"Don't you look…" said Padma; her dark eyes lingered on the lacy, frayed neck and sleeves of his dress robes as she looked him up and down, "dashing."

Soon, George came up to Eponine, dressed in dark blue.

"Oi, 'Ponine!" said George. "Is that you or is my date a fairy?"

Eponine giggled, blushing.

"You look…well…" his words obviously failed him.

"Thank you," she said.

"There you are, Potter and Black," said McGonagall. "Are you and your partners ready?"

"Ready?" asked Harry.

"To dance…it's traditional that the three champions, in this case five, are the first to dance. Surely I told you that."

"No, professor," said Eponine.

"Oh," said McGonagall, embarrassed. "Well, now you know." She turned to Ron. "Oh, well, Mr. Weasley, you may proceed into the Great Hall with Miss Patil."

"I need all of you to line up in procession please," McGonagall said to the champions.

"She looks beautiful!" exclaimed Pavarti.

Harry and Eponine turned to see Hermione walking down the stairs in a pink satin dress, her hair curled and glossy. She was smiling, rather nervously. Soon, Viktor approached her, dressed in bright red outfit with a matching cape with brown wool on the inside. He bowed to Hermione and took her hand.

The five champions lined up, starting with Fleur and her date, Roger Davies, Victor and Hermione, Cedric his date, Cho Chang, Harry and Pavarti, and lastly Eponine and George. Applause burst as the champions proceeded into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was decorated like a winter wonderland: the walls were white like snow with icicles hanging off the walls, ice sculptures decorated the tables, and snow falling from the enchanted ceiling. The House tables were gone; instead there were a hundred smaller, lantern lit tables, seating about a dozen people. The windows were decorated with silvery, silk drapes.

Eponine stood to face George and a waltz began to play and they began to dance. Eponine's heart pounded and her face flushed, her glass heels continued to clink until George lifted her in the air, her hair whipping in the air and her shoe nearly falling off. Soon, Dumbledore joined the dance with Professor McGonagall, Karkaroff joined in as well and danced with Professor Sinistra. Eponine could see in the corner of her eye, Filch and Mrs. Norris and she could see Moody sitting in the corner, dressed in a mustard yellow kilt, tapping his feet and humming and his magical eye whirling all around; he looked drunk.

Soon, the room erupted with loud rock music that made the students burst into excited screams and started dancing like crazy. The Weird Sisters began to play. Eponine pulled her glass slippers off and tossed them aside and danced in her bare feet, panting and sweating; her hair stuck to her neck and shoulders and her satin dress stuck to parts of her body.

After a few songs, she continued to dance with George, enjoying herself. Soon, she felt slightly tired.

"I'm going to get some air," she said.

"Yea, sure," said George. "I'll get you some punch when you come back."

"Thanks."

Eponine went outside to get some fresh air after all the dancing. Once outside, her glass heels clinked on the stone walkway. She passed carriages that rocked...she heard their thoughts as she passed by and immediately blocked them out.

The cold night air dried the sweat and the snow fell on her bare shoulders, making her shiver, bringing back memories of cold winter days, in her tattered linen dress, shoveling snow, shivering violently. She saw the ghost of herself as a child: hollow, tear-stained eyes, lank, dull hair, filthy from head to toe. She watched as the little girl faded in the snow-covered path.

"It's happening again like before," said Karkaroff, sounding anxious and hushed as though keen not to be overhead. "Soon neither you nor anyone else will be able to deny it."

"I already told you, Igor," said Snape, curtly. "I see no reason to discuss it."

She hid in the shadows, remembering her motto as a servant: pretend to be invisible. She watched as Snape jogged towards a carriage and he waved his wand, causing a shade to draw up with a loud snap. His expression was ill-natured and gasps came from the carriage.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff, Fawcett!" he snarled as a girl jumped out. "And ten points from Ravenclaw, Stebbins!" as a boy followed behind her, both were blushing with embarrassment.

"It's a sign, Severus!" said Karkaroff, nervously. "You know it is!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Snape said coolly.

"Really? Then perhaps you won't mind rolling up your sleeve?" Snape jerked his arm away from Karkaroff's grasp. "You don't fool me, Severus. You are scared. Admit it."

Snape took a step forward and stared at Karkaroff.

"I have nothing to be scared of, Igor. Can you say the same?"

Karkaroff backed away slowly and went back inside with fear in his eyes. Eponine tried to read their minds, but they appeared to be blocked somehow. What did Snape have on his arm that was so secretive? What could he be hiding?

Eponine decided to run inside and wanted to forget everything that she had heard.

"BLACK!" Snape's voice said behind her. "What are you doing out here?"

"Walking," she replied, shortly. "Not against the law, is it?"

"Then keep walking!" he said. He stared at her with acid.

Eponine went back inside and found George holding two punch glasses.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"Yea, fine," she replied. "Want to dance?"

"Yea, sure, why not?"

A slow song was playing and Eponine noticed that everybody was getting closer.

"Want to get closer?" he asked, coyly.

"Well, no funny business," she said.

George placed his hand on Eponine's waist and pulled her close, her bosom barely touched his chest. She stared into his brown eyes, her hands shaking and sweating, feeling his hand touching her hair. He smiled at her.

XXXX

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson were hiding behind some tables, watching George and Eponine dance.

"This will teach that slut baby a lesson to humiliate me," he said.

He pulled the bucket from out of the table, waved his wand and it floated overhead and he positioned it over Eponine's head. Apparently, nobody saw it. Soon, he let the bucket fall…

Eponine felt something wet and slimy fall on her head, dripping down her bare skin and hair. It smelled disgusting as well. It was a bucket of rubbish. George stopped and the music came to a halt and everyone stared in horror. However, nobody found this funny except the Slytherins who were laughing hard until tears came out.

"That's what you are, Black!" shouted Malfoy. "Filth and rubbish!"

The Slytherins were doubled-over in laughter, guffawing, pointing at her, shouting insults at her in sing-song voices.

"How dare you!" shouted McGonagall, angrily. "Fifty points from each of you from Slytherin!"

Eponine's rage began to grow, her blood boiling, hiding her face with her filthy hands, digging her fingers into her scalp. She closed her eyes tightly and she could see the universe…the stars…their fiery exteriors…

(we come to you mistress we hear your call)

Soon, the enchanting ceiling lit up with shooting stars…then, there were deafening thuds and the ground shook outside. Everyone screamed and took cover. Then, the icicles on the wall shattered like glass as something large struck the ceiling. Soon, Dumbledore waved his wand and the ceiling calmed down.

Eponine blinked her eyes…she didn't remember what happened…she saw everyone running outside to see what had happened. Eponine and George joined the rest of the crowd. Dumbledore was examining large, charred rocks, which were smoking. They had made large holes in the ground and the roof of the Great Hall was damaged.

(the stars will hear your call)


	9. The Egg, The Eye, and Awkward Moments

Chapter Nine

The Egg, the Eye, and Awkward Moments

Today's _Daily Prophet_ screamed headlines:

_**SHOWER OF STARS REPORTED AT THE YULE BALL**_

_On Christmas Eve night, a shower of stars was reported on the grounds of Hogwarts School. The shower started at approximately 10 PM last night, causing severe damage to the roof of the Great Hall. The rocks have been examined by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. _

"_There doesn't seem to be anything special about them," said Dumbledore. "They're just ordinary rocks."_

_Why exactly this destructive storm has happened, nobody knows. The Ministry of Magic has transported the rocks to the Department of Mysteries to further investigate._

Whispers were all over the corridor about the star shower that happened at the Yule Ball. Eponine couldn't stop thinking about what had happened…she remembered Trelawney said in a prediction.

_She_ made them come!

Though nobody knew why the star shower had happened, she still had an uncomfortable feeling inside that they knew it was her.

It was time to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over—everybody except Harry and Eponine, who both started to feel slightly nervous.

Aside from the star-shower incident, what bothered Eponine was that she still had to work on the clue of the golden egg. She took the egg out of her trunk, opening it and listening intently, hoping that it would make some sense. It continued to scream. She closed it, shook it vigorously and opened it to see if it had changed, but it hadn't. She threw it across the room, frustrated, cursing. She didn't expect that to help.

Eponine got up from the sofa, sighing and went for a walk in hopes to clear her head from the egg mystery. The snow was thick as ever and the windows were thick with condensation.

She went outside to get fresh air. It was cold and crisp outside; the acres of trees at her feet reaching up like thousands of hands and the lake looked like steel. Eponine loved being with her friends, but she enjoyed solitude just as much. Just looking at the view from where she was took her mind off that clue for the second task. She thought about her Christmas that she had with her Dad: she gave him a brand new coat, scarf and gloves so that he would stay warm in the winter to which he put on immediately, smiling and his eyes shining. She wished the weekend would come faster so she could see him again.

"Hey--Eponine!" said a voice behind her. She turned around and found Cedric Diggory behind her.

"Yes?"

"I've been looking for you everywhere. I wanted to tell you about the golden egg. Does it wail when you open it?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Well…take a bath, OK?"

"What?"

"Take a bath and—er—take the egg with you and—er—just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think…trust me."

Eponine stared at him.

"You know the Prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor?"

"Yes."

"Well, the password's _pine fresh_."

"Well, thanks, Cedric." She smiled a little.

"I heard about what happened at the Yule Ball. Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, thanks."

XXXX

As Eponine had no idea how a bath she would need to work out the secret of the golden egg, she decided to do it at night. With her knowledge of Hogwarts and being used to traveling at night, she knew few people were allowed in the prefects' bathroom, so it was likely that she would be disturbed. She snuck out of bed, tiptoeing and hiding in the shadows, carrying the golden egg, keeping a lookout for Filch. However, the moonlit corridors were empty and silent, but she kept her ears alert. When she reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, she located the door; she muttered the password 'pine fresh'.

The door creaked open and she slipped inside, looking around. It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred taps stood in the middle of the pool. A glass stained window of a blonde mermaid, turned around and looked at Eponine. Fluffy white towels sat in a corner.

Eponine found the tap that turned on the hundreds of taps. They poured out colorful bubble bath mixes into the water. While the tub was filling, she clipped up her hair with a hairclip, took off her nightgown and slippers and slid into the water.

It was so deep that her feet barely touched the bottom. Yet, it was so warm that Eponine felt so relaxed and content. Eponine grabbed the egg and swam across the length of the pool. She heard a noise coming from the door and panicked, dropping her egg in the water and ducking behind the taps.

She saw that it was Harry. He looked around to see if anyone was there. He was undressing and Eponine began to panic. She was naked and now her best friend, completely unaware that she was here, was undressing and might see her. It was awkward enough when she had to dance with him in front of everyone. She thought that if she stayed quiet and didn't move, maybe he wouldn't know she was there. Pretend you're invisible, you don't exist…

"I must be out of my mind!" he whispered.

Soon, Harry opened the egg and the wailing, screeching sound filled the bathroom, reverberating off the walls. He shut the egg, fearing that he would attract Filch. Eponine covered her ears, painfully.

"I'm definitely out of my mind," he said again.

Suddenly, she felt a sneeze coming…damn perfumed bubble bath! She sneezed loudly.

"Is someone there?" said Harry. Eponine heard him walking towards her, panicking. "Hello?"

"Stay back!" she yelled, her voice shaking.

"'Ponine?" he said.

Eponine poked her head out from behind the taps.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I could ask the same thing!" she said, covering her chest. "Don't come near me! I'm naked!"

"Well, so am I!" He paused. "Hang on, you didn't see anything, did you?" He began gathering the foam, covering himself.

"No…" she said weakly, blushing. "Not much. Then, I closed my eyes and turned away."

They both stared at each other in silence, blushing. Eponine was surprised to see how muscular his arms and chest were; there were some scars on his shoulder from the Hungarian Horntail. As for Harry, he couldn't help but stare at Eponine. She looked so pretty: a few stray blonde hairs stuck to her neck, which looked graceful and her shoulders so perfect. Her heart pendant was covered with foam and her silver chain glittered in the candlelight.

"Well, what are you doing in here, Eponine?" he asked.

"Solving the egg mystery," she said.

"How did you know what to do?"

"Cedric."

"He told me to do the same thing."

"Well, since we're both in here, why don't we solve it together?" she said. "But, no looking!"

"Agreed," he said, completely agreeing with her. "Where is your egg anyway?"

"I dropped it underwater. But, don't worry about it. We'll use yours."

They went towards the edge of the pool where Harry's egg was, covering each other up with foam and bubbles and keeping their distance. The two friends didn't even look at each other, too embarrassed.

"So, what do you suppose Cedric meant by 'take a bath'?" he said.

She shrugged. There was a splash and giggles coming from the toilet. They looked around and saw a Moaning Myrtle, peeking out from the toilet. She was smiling.

"I'd try putting in the water if I were you," she said, giggling.

"Myrtle!" Harry said in outrage.

"Hello, Harry! Long time, no see!" Myrtle craned her neck as a way to get a peek at Harry. She giggled like a schoolgirl. When she saw Eponine, Myrtle smiled evilly. "Ooh! Are you two having a naughty party?"

"Hey!" Eponine said red in the face. "We're not doing anything! We're just friends! And believe me, this is awkward enough as it is!"

"Oh," she said, giggling; Eponine didn't think Myrtle believed her. "I do recall seeing your Mum and Dad taking baths in here during their seventh year, 'Ponine."

"OK," Eponine said in disgust. "I really didn't need to hear that."

Moaning Myrtle leaped in the air and floated above their heads. "I was circling a blocked drain the other day and could swear I saw a bit of Polyjuice Portion. Not being bad again, are you two?"

"Polyjuice Potion?" said Harry, confused.

"Myrtle, did you say 'try putting it in the water'?" Eponine said.

She squealed with delight and dove in the water, disappearing. She bobbed up, smiling coyly. "That's what he did: the other boy, the handsome one…Cedric. Well, go on. Open it."

Harry placed the egg in the water and opened it under the water…and this time, it did not wail. The center of the egg shimmered with a gold light. There was gurgling song coming out of it, a song that they couldn't make out the words.

"OK, we'll go under and listen…but no looking," he said.

Eponine nodded and shut her eyes. There was a beautiful, eerie voice that sang.

"_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground._

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_To recover what we took."_

The two of them resurfaced above the bubbly surface of the water, coughing and moving aside hair. Eponine covered herself to make sure Harry didn't see her.

"Myrtle, there aren't _merpeople_ in the Black Lake, are there?" Harry said.

"Very good," she said, being coy. "It took Cedric ages to riddle it out. Almost all the bubbles were gone."

Myrtle was giggling and inching closer to Harry, trying to sneak peeks of him under the water. Soon, she rested her head on Harry's shoulder, smiling like a lovesick schoolgirl.

"I'm…getting out," Eponine said, uncomfortably. "Close your eyes, Harry. And I shall know if you're looking."

She waited until his eyes were closed and read his thoughts to make sure he didn't think about peeking. She dried herself with a towel and put her nightgown, robe and slippers back on.

"Ummm…well, I think I'll get out as well," said Harry.

"Alright," Eponine said. "I'm not looking." She heard the rustle of water and then a towel and clothes being put back on.

"Well, thanks, Myrtle," said Eponine.

"You're very welcome. Don't you be having any more naughty parties." She was giggling.

They exited the prefects' bathroom, a bit wet and embarrassed.

"Let's not tell anybody about this," Harry said.

"Agreed," Eponine replied.

Out in the dark corridor, Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map to check if the coast was clear. Yes, the footprints belonging to Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris, were safely in their office…nothing else seemed to be moving…Harry had taken his first step back towards the Gryffindor tower when something else caught his eye…something odd.

"What?" asked Eponine.

Harry pointed to the set of footprints in a room in the bottom left-hand corner—Snape's storage room. But the footprints weren't labeled "Severus Snape"…it was Bartimus Crouch.

"What would Mr. Crouch be doing in Snape's office at one o'clock in the morning?" asked Harry.

"I don't know…but that's Snape's personal storage room that he's running around in," Eponine said. "How did he get in though? He always locks it with a spell."

"Let's go check it out."

They walked down the stairs as quietly as possible, creeping along the corridor below, pushed aside a tapestry about halfway long, and proceeded down a narrower staircase.

"Why would someone like Mr. Crouch do something like this? He doesn't seem like the type who would break into someone's office," Eponine said.

"I don't know," said Harry.

Suddenly, they sank into the trick step on the stairs, dropping their eggs and the Marauder's Map as well. They clanged when they fell down the steps and they opened, wailing loudly.

"What's this racket?" said Filch. "Who's there?"

His footsteps halted and there was a clink of metal on metal and the wailing had stopped—Filch had picked up the eggs and closed them. The two of them stood very still, legs stuck in the magical step, listening. Any moment Filch would be coming up the stairs and would find the Marauder's Map with the footsteps of Harry Potter and Eponine Black standing exactly where they were, Invisibility Cloak or not…he would find them…

"Egg?" he said quietly. "This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to the school champions! Damn poltergeists have been stealing!"

They could see his horrible, pouchy face and bulging, pale eyes staring up the dark and deserted staircase.

"Filch! What's going on?"

Filch stopped a few steps below them and turned. At the foot of the stairs the only person who could make both of their situations worse: Snape. He was wearing a long, gray nightshirt and he looked livid.

"Damn poltergeists, Professor," Filch whispered. "They threw these down the stairs."

Snape climbed the stairs quickly and stopped beside Filch. Eponine covered her mouth to silence her loud breathing. Her heart was beating so hard and loud that she was scared it would give them away…

"Poltergeists?" said Snape softly, staring at the eggs in Filch's hands. "They couldn't get into my office…"

"These were in your office?"

"Of course not," he snapped. "I heard banging and wailing…"

"Yes, Professor, it was the eggs…"

"I was coming to investigate…"

"I'm telling you, the poltergeists threw it, Professor,"

"-and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and the door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it! I know a poltergeist couldn't have done it because I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!" Snape looked up the stairs, straight through Harry and Eponine, and then down into the corridor below. "I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch."

"But…the poltergeists. The headmaster will have to listen to me this time. They've been stealing from students and it might be my chance to have them thrown out of the castle once and for…"

"I don't give a damn about the wretched poltergeists; it's my office that's…"

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

Snape stopped talking very abruptly. He and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs. Mad-Eye Moody limping into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Moody was wearing his old traveling cloak over his nightshirt and leaning on his staff as usual.

"Pajama party, is it?" he growled up the stairs.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," said Filch at once. "Those poltergeists, throwing things around as usual…first a window smashes in your classroom and now they're stealing things…and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off…"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch.

Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. Harry and Eponine saw Moody's magical eye travel over Snape, and then, unmistakably, onto themselves. They had both realized that he could see through invisibility cloaks…Moody's mouth opened with surprise as they stared at each other. Moody closed his mouth and turned his blue eye upon Snape again.

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" he asked. "Someone broke into your office?"

"That's not important," said Snape, coldly.

"Quite the contrary," growled Moody. "It is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," said Snape. "It has happened once before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private stores …students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt."

"Potion ingredients, eh?" said Moody. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

Eponine watched the edge of Snape's sallow face turn a nasty brick color, the vein in his temple pulsing more rapidly.

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said in a soft and dangerous voice, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Eponine shivered slightly: just hearing Snape's voice turn soft and dangerous brought back terrifying memories. When he yelled, she knew he was angry, but it was when his voice was soft, she couldn't predict what he was going to do.

Moody's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye…"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," said Snape through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe he gave you orders to search my office!"

"'Course Dumbledore trusts you," growled Moody. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me—I say there are spots that don't come off. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something had hurt him.

Moody laughed. "Go back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though angry with himself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," said Moody, threateningly. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time…you dropped something by the way…"

With a stab of horror, Harry and Eponine saw Moody point at the Marauder's Map, still lying on the staircase six steps below them. Harry waved his arms furiously at Moody to attract his attention, mouthing "It's mine!" while Eponine shook her head no, her eyes pleading not to give them away.

Snape had reached out for it, a horrible expression of sudden comprehension on his face…

"_Accio Parchment!"_

The map flew up into the air, slipped through Snape's outstretched fingers, and soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.

"My mistake," Moody said calmly. "It's mine—must've dropped it earlier…"

But Snape's black eyes were darting from the egg to Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand, and he was already putting the two together.

"Potter. Black," he whispered quietly.

"What was that?" said Moody, remaining calm and folding up the map and pocketing it.

"Potter and Black!" Snape snarled. And he actually turned his head and started right at the place where the two of them were as though he could suddenly see them. "Those eggs are Potter's and Black's. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before. I recognize it! Potter is here! So is Black! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak! Black is definitely the one breaking into my offices with Potter! I know it's her!"

Snape stretched out his hand like a blind man and began to move up the stairs. They leaned backward, trying to avoid his outreached fingertips…any moment now…

"There's nothing here, Snape!" barked Moody. "As for Black, why do you think she would steal from your stores?"

"Black is just like her criminal father. When she was my servant, she had a key to my stores and when she was dismissed, it disappeared. She may have her mother's good looks, but she's just like her father."

"Black is a good girl," Moody said, defensively "She would never steal anything." He paused as his magical eye went to Eponine, who looked grateful. "I'd be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter and Eponine Black."

"Meaning what?" Snape turned again to look at Moody, his hand still outstretched, inches from Eponine's nose.

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for them!" said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs. "As so am I, Snape…very interested…" The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, making his scars look deeper and darker.

Snape was looking down at Moody and neither of them could see the expression on his face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Snape slowly lowered his hands.

"I merely thought," said Snape, in a voice of forced calm, "that if Potter and Black were wandering around after hours again…it's an unfortunate habit of theirs…they should be stopped. For—for their own safety."

"Ah, interesting," said Moody. "Got their best interest at heart, do you?"

There was a pause. Snape and Moody were staring at each other.

"I think I will go back to bed," Snape said, bluntly.

"Best idea you've hald all night," said Moody. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg…"

"No!" said Filch, clutching the eggs as though it was the most precious thing to him. "This is evidence of poltergeists. I'm going to make sure that they get thrown out."

"It's the property of the champions they stole," Moody said. "Hand it over now!"

Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch handed the eggs back, grumbling and cursing under his breath. They listened as Snape and Filch's footsteps faded down the corridor. Soon, Harry took the cloak off.

"Close shave, Potter and Black," he muttered.

"Yea…thanks," said Harry weakly.

"Professer…" said Eponine. "Would you mind…?"

"What? Oh! Yes…yes, of course…"

Moody took a hold of Harry and Eponine's arms and pulled and soon their legs were released from the trick step.

"So what is this thing?" said Moody, drawing the Marauder's Map out of his pocket and unfolding it.

"Map of Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Merlin's beard," Moody whispered, staring at the map, his magical eye swiveled wildly. "This is some map!"

"Yea, it's quite useful," Harry said.

"By any chance, did either you happen to see who broke into Snape's office? On this map, I mean?"

"Yea, it was Mr. Crouch," Eponine said.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," said Harry.

"Well, he's not here anymore," said Moody, his magical eye still whirling over the map. "That's…interesting."

"But Crouch doesn't seem like the type who would break into offices," Eponine said. "But why would he do that?"

Moody's magical eye left the map and fixed on them. It was a penetrating glare and

"Put it this way," Moody finally said. "They say old Mad-Eye's obsessed with catching Dark wizards…but I'm nothing…_nothing_…compared to Barty Crouch."

Moody continued to stare at the map. They were burning to know more.

"Do you think…could this have anything to do with…maybe Mr. Crouch thinks there's something going on…" said Harry.

"Like what?" asked Moody.

Eponine read Harry's mind; it sounded worried since he had an outside source from her Dad.

"What he means," Eponine said. "odd stuff has been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the _Daily Prophet…_the Dark Mark at the World Cup and the Death Eaters…"

Both of Moody's mismatched eyes widened.

"You're a sharp girl, 'Ponine," he said. "Crouch could be thinking along the lines. Very possible…there have been funny rumors flying around lately and it's making people nervous. One thing I hate is a Death Eater who walks free…"

There was a silence between the three of them. Could Moody mean what they thought he meant?

"Potter, I would like to ask you a question," Moody said.

Eponine could sense nervousness in Harry. Moody was going to ask him where he had gotten the map, which was a magical object…and the story of how he came across it: Eponine and Harry's fathers, Fred and George Weasley, and Professor Lupin, the last Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Can I borrow this?"

"Oh!" said Harry.

Though Harry was fond of the map, he was relieved that he didn't ask where he got it and he owed Moody a favor.

"Sure."

"Thank you. I'll make sure it's returned to you. As for you, 'Ponine, never mind what anyone says about your father. I'm sure he's proud to have a daughter like you."

"Well, thank you, sir," Eponine said, near tears.

"Right, you two go to bed," said Moody. "You shouldn't be wandering about the corridors at night."

Harry and Eponine nodded in agreement.


End file.
